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4 


BLONFEL  AND  RICHARD. 


Pave  23* 


PREFACE. 


This  volume  is  intended  (should  the  undertaking  meet  witc 
the  approbation  of  the  public)  as  the  first  of  a  series,  to  bo  pre- 
pared by  different  gentlemen,  and  designed  more  particularly 
for  the  instruction  and  improvement  of  the  young. 

In  its  preparation,  the  following  works  have  been  con- 
sulted :  Hume's  History  of  England ;  Lingard's ;  Knight's 
Pictorial  History;  Aytoun's  Life  and  Times  of  Richard 
the  First;  the  old  romance,  the  Gests  of  Richard  Coeur  de 
Lion  ;  and  the  German  History  of  the  Assassins,  by  Von  Ham- 
mer. The  object  of  the  author  has  been  to  make  his  work  as 
personally  biographical  as  possible,  and  to  avoid  the  details  of 
general  history,  except  when  they  directly  illustrated  the  life 
and  character  of  Richard.  The  reader  will  find  the  adventures 
of  the  Lion-Hearted  King  sufficiently  wondrous,  though  au- 
thentically recorded,  to  justify  their  being  chronicled  in  a 
series  of  "  Romantic  Biographies." 


%\t  jiorw-J-mttfc  %n%. 


CHAPTER    I. 

liTO  braver  man  ever  sat  upon  a  throne  than  Richard 
±\  the  First  of  England,  as  the  history  of  his 
adventurous  life  we  are  about  to  relate  will  show. 
He  was  called  Coeur  de  Lion,  the  Lion-hearted  King, 
in  consequence  of  his  great  spirit  and  courage.  He 
was  a  man  well  suited  to  the  times  in  which  he  lived, 
when  war  was  the  occupation  of  mankind,  and  per- 
sonal  courage  was  thought  the  highest  virtue. 

Richard  was  born  seven  hundred  years  ago.  He 
was  the  third  son  of  Henry  the  Second,  one  of 
England's  greatest  kings.  His  father  had  eight 
children  by  Queen  Eleanor :  William,  who  died 
while  an  infant;  Henry ;  Richard,  the  subject  of  our 
history ;  Geoffrey ;  John,  afterwards  king ;  and  three 
daughters.  Henry  the  Second,  though  a  great  mon- 
arch, and  in  many  respects  a  good  man,  was  a  bad 
husband,  and  formed  an  improper  alliance  with  Rosa- 
mond de  Clifford,  by  whom  he  had  also  several  child 
ren.     This  was  the  "  fair  Rosamond,"  of  whom  the 


14  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

romantic  story  is  told  of  her  having  been  shut  up  in  a 
labyrinth,  which  was  called  Rosamond's  Bower,  to 
keep  her  safe  from  the  jealous  rage  of  Eleanor,  who 
was  the  only  true  wife  of  King  Henry.  The  story  runs 
that  this  "  bower"  was  so  ingeniously  contrived,  with 
its  winding  paths  and  complicated  turnings,  that  no  one 
could  find  his  way,  in  or  out,  without  being  provided 
with  some  clue  to  its  intricacy.  Eleanor  was  very 
jealous  of  the  fair  Rosamond,  who  was  beautiful  be- 
yond compare,  and  was  wickedly  loved  by  the 
ardent  king,  and  the  queen  hated  her  with  a  deadly 
hatred.  She  accordingly  determined  to  destroy  her 
rival  in  the  affections  of  her  husband,  and  hit  upon  an 
ingenious  contrivance  to  pounce  upon  Rosamond  in 
her  cage,  (for  it  was  but  a  cage,  though  a  garden, 
rich  with  verdure  and  beautiful  with  flowers,)  where 
Henry  had  shut  her  up,  to  secure  her  from  the 
jealousy  of  his  wife.  Eleanor  provided  herself  one 
day  with  a  bowl  of  deadly  poison  and  a  long  clew 
of  silken  thread,  and  entered  the  bower  in  search  of 
her  victim.  She  dropped  the  clew,  holding  to  one 
end  as  she  proceeded,  and  it  unravelled  at  every  step 
she  took.  She  thus  wound  her  way  through  the 
winding  passage  and  many  turnings  of  the  labyrinth, 
the  thread  behind  her  upon  the  ground  showing 
where  she  had  already  been.  She  never  retraced 
her  steps  without  her  knowledge,  and  could  tell  at 
every  moment  whether  she  was  making  progress  or 
not ;  and  thus,  bearing  the  fatal  poison  and  trailing 


Married  in  Infancy.  15 

the  thread  after  her,  she  wound  her  way,  like  a 
venomous  serpent,  to  the  unsuspecting  Rosamond. 
The  jealous  queen,  with  a  dagger  to  the  poor  lady's 
heart  and  the  howl  of  poison  to  her  lips,  forced  the 
fair  Rosamond  to  drink  the  deadly  draught  to  its 
dregs.  This  interesting  story  of  the  labyrinth  is  only 
a  romance,  but  it  is  one  of  the  prettiest  connected 
with  English  history,  and  though  a  fiction,  has  its 
use,  as  an  illustration  of  the  truth.  There  was  no 
bower,  with  winding  passages  and  endless  turnings  ; 
but  there  was  a  fair  Rosamond,  beloved  by  King 
Henry,  and  hated  by  his  wife  Eleanor  ;  but  the  lat- 
ter, though  jealous — for  being  which,  poor  woman, 
her  wicked  husband  had  given  her  too  much  oc- 
casion— never  allowed  her  passion  to  get  so  much  the 
better  of  her  as  to  murder  her  rival,  or  even,  so  far 
as  is  known,  to  desire  to  do  so. 

Of  the  boyhood  of  Richard  we  know  hardly  any 
thing.  The  only  fact  recorded  of  it  is,  curiously 
enough,  his  betrothal,  at  the  early  age  of  twelve,  to 
Alice  or  Adelais,  daughter  of  Louis  VII.,  King  of 
France.  For  a  boy  at  this  early  age  to  be  engaged 
to  be  married  seems  very  strange.  Strange,  how- 
ever, as  it  may  appear,  it  was  no  uncommon  thing 
for  princes  and  princesses  to  be  affianced  by  their 
parents  while  children,  or  even  infants.  The  eldest 
brother  of  Richard,  Prince  Henry,  was  betrothed  to 
a  French  princess  while  they  were  both  infants  in 
arms ;  and  more  than  this,  the  father  of  the  prince 


16  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

was  in  so  much  haste  to  have  the  matter  settled,  that 
he  proposed  that  the  ceremony  of  marriage  between 
the  royal  babes  should  be  performed  at  once.  Mar- 
riage is  considered  by  royal  persons  an  affair  of  state 
only,  and  as  it  is  not  the  happiness  of  the  husband 
and  wife,  but  the  gratification  of  the  ambition  of 
princes  which  is  sought,  royal  match-making  is  gene- 
rally guided  by  policy,  and  not  by  love.  So  King 
Henry  of  England  and  Louis  VII.  of  France  only 
thought  of  their  own  advantage  when  they  affianced 
their  children,  who,  in  the  innocence  of  infancy,  plot- 
ted no  guile  in  the  present,  and  looked  to  no  conse- 
quences in  the  future. 

The  early  English  kings,  subsequent  to  the  Norman 
conquest,  held  large  territories  in  France,  in  allegiance 
to  the  kings  of  that  country.  Henry  the  Second  was 
a  very  large  holder,  through  his  own  personal  in- 
terest and  that  of  his  wife,  and  as  possessor  of  the 
crown  of  England  and  Normandy.  These  rights, 
held  by  an  English  king  on  French  soil,  were  the 
cause  of  constant  contention  between  King  Henry 
and  Louis  of  France.  The  chief  object  of  the  alliance 
by  marriage,  between  the  English  and  French  crowns, 
was  to  reconcile  these  discords,  of  which  both  for  a 
while  seemed  tired.  The  French  king,  in  consequence 
of  the  betrothal  of  his  daughters  with  the  English 
princes,  prevailed  upon  the  king  of  England  to  yield 
up  to  Prince  Henry,  the  eldest,  the  fair  provinces  of 
Anjou  and  Maine,  and  to  Richard  the  rich  possession 


Prince  Henry's  Ambition.  17 

of  Aquitaine.  The  French  king  was  wily  enough  to 
insist  upon  the  princes  holding  their  French  posses- 
sions directly  from  him,  to  which  the  English  king 
unwisely  assented.  Though  Henry,  in  his  wicked 
love  for  the  fair  Rosamond,  showed  himself  a  bad 
husband,  he  was  a  very  kind  and  generous  father  to 
the  children  of  his  wife  Eleanor.  It  was  from  the 
fullness  of  his  paternal  heart  that  he  bestowed  upon 
his  children  the  rich  bounty  of  some  of  the  fairest 
portions  of  the  French  dominions.  He  was  outwitted 
by  the  French  king  in  the  stipulation  that  the  princes 
should  do  allegiance  to  the  latter  for  their  possessions 
in  France.  It  seems  clear  that  Louis  was  more 
guided  by  a  secret  state  policy,  and  Henry  by  a 
frank,  paternal  love,  in  this  arrangement,  which 
turned  out,  as  the  sequel  will  prove,  greatly  to  the 
disadvantage  of  the  king  of  England. 

The  eldest  son  of  Henry  the  Second,  Prince  Henry, 
was  an  aspiring  youth,  and  not  satisfied  with  the  in- 
dulgence of  his  father,  as  shown  by  his  generous  gifts 
of  two  noble  provinces  in  France,  insisted  upon 
further  possessions,  and  had  the  unparalleled  auda- 
city to  ask  for  the  whole  of  Normandy,  or  the  -king- 
dom of  England  itself.  His  father  had  allowed  him, 
as  he  was  his  eldest  son  and  heir,  to  be  crowned,  and 
now  the  latter  made  that  indulgent  concession  a 
ground  for  his  inordinate  claim,  pretending  that  it 
was  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  crowned  head  to  bow  in 
submission  as  a  subject,     Prince  Henry  was  young, 

2 


18  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

and  though  spirited  and  brave,  he  was  easily  influ- 
enced where  his  vanity  might  be  worked  upon ;  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  the  French  king,  availing  him- 
self of  this  weakness,  induced  the  young  prince,  to 
which  he  was  easily  led  by  his  vain  love  of  power, 
to  make  this  demand  upon  his  father.  King  Henry 
refused  this  outrageous  recraest  at  once,  and  being 
greatly  incensed,  accused  his  son  of  ingratitude. 
The  prince  then  abruptly  left  his  father,  whose  court 
was  in  Normandy,  and  fled  to  the  court  of  Louis 
VII.  In  spite  of  a  letter  from  King  Henry  to  the 
latter,  in  which  the  French  king  was  urged  not  to 
countenance  a  son  in  the  unholy  disobedience  to  his 
father,  the  French  king  was  wicked  and  cruel  enough 
to  write  back  to  that  father,  justifying  the  ingratitude 
of  the  child,  and  declaring  that  his  son  had  a  right  to 
the  English  throne,  and  he  (Louis  VII.)  would  sus- 
tain it.  The  French  king  thus  boldly  announced  this 
wicked  outrage  upon  the  rights  of  a  royal  brother, 
and  his  concurrence  in  the  awful  wickedness  of  a  son 
in  open  rebellion  against  his  father.  King  Henry 
was  dreadfully  afflicted  by  the  ingratitude  and  willful 
disobedience  of  his  child  ;  and  how  much  greater 
must  have  been  the  poignancy  of  his  grief  when  he 
learned  that  his  wife  Eleanor  and  his  two  younger 
sons,  Richard  and  Geoffrey,  had  also  fled  his  king- 
dom, to  join  his  enemy,  the  king  of  France.  The 
shock  would  have  broken  the  heart  of  an  equally 
loving  father,  but  less  energetic  king.     The  sons  sue- 


Sons  Against  Father.  19 

ceecled  in  escaping  the  active  pursuit  of  their  royal 
father ;  but  the  queen,  who  had  attempted  flight  in 
the  disguise  of  a  man,  was  overtaken  and  lodged  in 
prison,  where  she  suffered  the  long  captivity  of 
fifteen  years.  Richard  was  only  fifteen  years  of  age 
at  this  time,  and  it  is  hardly  fair  to  hold  him  respon- 
sible for  this  audacious  disobedience  to  his  father's 
will,  nor  can  it  be  deemed  very  unnatural  that  he 
should  have  yielded  to  his  mother's  influence.  The 
queen  had  been  long  enraged  with  her  royal  husband, 
in  consequence  of  his  devotion  to  the  fair  Rosamond, 
and  feeling  deeply  the  wrong  that  she  had  suffered, 
was  determined  to  revenge  herself.  She  accordingly 
instigated  her  children  to  this  rebellion  against  the 
king,  and  connived  with  Louis  of  France  in  this 
attempt  to  dismember  the  dominion  of  her  husband. 
The  queen,  moreover,  had  brought  with  her  as  her 
dower  seven  provinces,  and  would  have  governed  them 
herself,  but  as  King  Henry  would  brook  no  division 
of  his  power,  she  was  desirous  of  securing  to  her 
children  what  she  failed  to  obtain  for  herself.  The 
English  king  strove  with  all  his  might  to  avoid  the 
terrible  emergency  of  being  forced  into  open  conflict 
with  his  own  children,  and  accordingly  sent  an  am- 
bassador to  the  French  king,  with  the  purpose  of 
coming  to  a  friendly  arrangement.  All  his  overtures, 
which  were  evidently  dictated  by  a  father's  heart, 
were  flatly  rejected.  Moreover,  on  Easter-day,  in  the 
year  1173,  Louis  convened  a  great  assembly  of  the 


20  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

barons  of  France,  at  which  Prince  Henry  was  present, 
together  with  Philip,  Earl  of  Flanders,  and  William 
the  Lion,  King  of  Scotland.  These  all  pledged  them- 
selves by  a  solemn  oath  to  aid  the  English  prince  in 
prosecuting  what  was  termed  his  rights,  which  meant 
waging  an  unjust  war  against  his  father,  Henry  the 
Second  ;  while  the  son  engaged  himself  never  to  agree 
to  peace  without  the  consent  of  France.  Prince 
Henry  justified  his  unnatural  conduct  in  thus  taking 
arms  against  his  father,  on  the  score  of  religion.  Pie 
hypocritically  pretended  that  King  Henry  was  wrath- 
ful towards  him  for  having  done  reverence  to  the 
tomb  of  Thomas  a  Beckct,  who  since  his  murder  had 
been  put  high  upon  the  list  of  the  saints  of  the  Church. 
'•  I  fear  not,"  said  the  youthful  hypocrite,  "  to  offend 
a  father  when  the  cause  of  Christ  is  concerned."  He 
knew  very  well  that  his  father  was  guiltless,  beyond 
having  uttered  a  hasty  word,  of  the  murder  of  the 
pestilent  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  ;  and  in  pretend- 
ing that  in  revenging  his  death  he  was  doing  violence 
to  his  father's  wishes,  he  was  falsely  accusing  his 
parent  of  an  impiety  of  which  he  Avas  innocent. 

Henry,  whose  spirit  and  enterprise  were  equal  to 
any  emergency,  prepared  to  make  head  against  the 
formidable  conspiracy  arrayed  against  him,  and  en- 
rolled twenty  thousand  of  the  men  of  Brabant,  who 
were  always  ready  to  serve  any  one  who  paid  them. 
Louis  of  France,  with  the  young  English  prince,  laid 
siege  to  Vemeuil,  and  reduced  it  by  famine,  and 


The  Conference.  21 

when  the  English  king  had  reached  it,  ready  to  re- 
lieve his  subjects,  he  found  it  a  prey  to  the  flames. 
He,  however,  attacked  the  rear-guard  of  the  French 
and  routed  them,  and  overcame  a  numerous  body  of 
insurgents,  who  had  become  possessed  of  the  town 
of  Dol.  This  success  led  to  a  conference  near  Gisors 
which  was  held  in  a  plain  between  the  latter  place  and 
Trie,  beneath  the  wide-spreading  shade  of  an  ancient 
elm,  a  place  where  the  French  kings  and  Norman 
dukes  were  wont  to  hold  parleys  for  truce  or  peace. 
The  English  king  showed  his  usual  parental  generosity 
by  offering  to  Henry  and  Richard  half  the  revenues 
of  the  territories  they  demanded,  together  with  a 
number  of  castles,  while  to  Geoffrey,  the  youngest, 
he  promised  the  estates  of  Earl  Caran  in  Bretagne. 
The  young  princes,  if  they  had  been  allowed  to  have 
acted  according  to  the  natural  dictates  of  their  hearts, 
would  have  gratefully  accepted  these  generous  offers  ; 
but  the  French  king,  who  had  his  own  purposes  to 
serve,  interfered  and  prevented  the  filial  instincts  of 
the  royal  children,  while  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  a 
rebel,  insulting  his  lord  and  master,  King  Henry,  to 
his  teeth,  drew  his  sword  and  threatened  to  kill  him. 
The  conference  then  dissolved  in  turmoil  and  con- 
fusion. 

This  rupture  led  to  a  continuance  of  hostilities, 
with  a  father  arrayed  on  one  side  and  his  rebellious 
sons,  encouraged  by  the  wily  policy  of  King  Louis, 
on  the  other. 


22  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Prince  Richard,  who  was  now  about  seventeen 
years  old,  commenced  his  military  career,  sad  to  re- 
late, by  taking  up  arms  in  open  rebellion  against  his 
royal  father.  Richard  headed  a  formidable  insur- 
rection in  the  French  provinces  of  Poictou  and  Aqui- 
taine.  King  Henry,  with  Ins  accustomed  vigour, 
marched  against  the  rebels,  took  the  town  of  Saintes 
and  the  formidable  fortress  of  Tailleburg,  and  par- 
tially quieted  the  country. 

Another  success  on  the  part  of  the  English  king, 
before  the  city  of  Rouen,  the  capital  of  Normandy, 
which  was  besieged  by  Louis  of  France  and  King 
Henry's  sons,  brought  the  enemy  to  a  parley.  Pro- 
positions for  peace  were  offered,  to  which  the  princes 
Henry  and  Geoffrey  were  ready  to  assent,  birt  which 
their  hot-headed,  rebellious  brother,  Richard,  fiercely 
rejected.  His  blood  and  spirit  were  stirred  by  his 
first  experience  of  the  savage  delights  of  battle,  and 
he  longed  to  continue  the  conflict.  The  rash  youth 
therefore  persisted  in  his  rebellion,  but  in  spite  of 
the  aid  of  the  restless  barons  of  his  province  of  Aqui- 
taine,  was  forced  to  yield  castle  after  castle  to  the 
energetic  warfare  of  King  Henry,  and  was  fain  to 
come  to  terms  at  the  end  of  six  weeks.  The  father 
was  now  at  peace  with  his  children,  and  with  his 
usual  generosity  and  fatherly  kindness  bestowed  upon 
them  the  most  liberal  gifts  of  territory,  estates, 
castles,  and  money.  To  his  son  Richard  he  gave 
two  castles  in  Poictou,  and  half  the  revenue  of  its 


Reconciliation.  23 

earldom.  To  his  other  sons  he  made  equally  liberal 
presents.  The  boys  now  professed  to  be  perfectly 
satisfied,  and  promised  hereafter  to  love,  honor,  and 
ohej  their  father.  It  was,  however,  in  spite  of  this 
generosity  of  gifts  on  the  one  side,  and  liberality  of 
promises  on  the  other,  not  many  weeks  before  the 
eldest  son  was  ready  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  his  father ; 
but  it  did  not  fortunately  lead  to  any  serious  conse- 
quences, and  the  two  were  again  on  such  affectionate, 
terms  that,  according  to  an  old  writer,  they  not  only 
fed  at  the  same  table,  but  slept  in  the  same  bed. 

Henry  now  enjoyed  an  interval  of  peace  for 
eight  years,  a  long  time  for  those  warlike  days.  The 
king's  restless  disposition  and  active  spirit  would  not, 
however,  allow  him  to  remain  at  rest.  He  travelled 
rapidly  from  one  part  of  his  kingdom  to  another, 
from  Normandy  to  England  and  back  again,  direct- 
ing his  energies  to  the  administration  of  every  de- 
partment of  his  dominions.  Old  Peter  of  Blois,  an 
active,  spirited  man  himself,  a  great  traveller,  who 
had  scaled  the  mountains  of  the  Alps,  amid  storms 
and  avalanches,  and  was  always  on  the  alert,  at  the 
bidding  of  King  Henry,  to  go  from  one  end  of  the 
world  to  the  other,  was  perfectly  astounded  at  the 
restless  activity  of  his  master,  as  appears  in  a  letter 
addressed  to  King  Henry.  Peter  of  Blois  had  been 
on  a  mission  to  King  Louis,  and  wished  to  report  the 
result  to  King  Henry ;  but  not  being  able  to  find 
him,  writes,  that  "  he  had  been  hunting  after  him,  up 


24  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

and  down,  all  over  England,  but  in  vain,  and  that 
when  Solomon  set  down  four  things  as  too  hard  to 
discover,  he  ought  to  have  added  a  fifth,  and  that  was 
the  path  of  the  king  of  England."  And  King  Louis 
said  of  him  :  "  The  king  of  England  neither  rides  on 
land  nor  sails  on  water,  hut  flies  through  the  air  like 
a  bird.  In  a  moment  he  flies  from  Ireland  to  Eng- 
land— in  another  from  England  into  France." 

During  these  piping  times  of  peace,  King  Henry's 
children  lived  mostly  in  France,  amusing  themselves, 
as  the  young  nobles  in  those  days  were  wont,  with 
the  mimic  war  of  the  tournament.  Tilts  and  jousts 
succeeded  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  and  none 
were  more  conspicuous  for  their  skill  in  these 
knightly  accomplishments  than  the  youthful  princes. 
Kichard,  who  was  remarkably  tall,  vigorous,  and 
active  for  his  age,  and  of  indomitable  courage,  shone 
above  all  his  noble  competitors.  The  prowess  of 
these  princes  was  the  theme  of  the  song  of  the 
minstrels,  who  travelled  from  castle  to  castle,  relat- 
ing in  verse  the  deeds  and  the  renown  of  the  noble 
and  brave.  King  Henry  always  listened  with  delight 
to  the  minstrel's  song,  which,  as  it  recorded  passing 
events,  may  be  considered  to  have  been  a  kind  of 
newspaper,  done  in  verse,  which  was  circulated  from 
court  to  court  and  castle  to  castle,  very  much  as  the 
morning  papers  are  dropped  at  our  doors  in  these 
matter-of-fact  days.  King  Henry  would  probably 
have  been  a  great  newspaper  reader  if  he  had  lived 


Renewed  Discord.  25 

in  our  time,  for  his  mind  was  of  that  active  kind  that 
it  was  not  contented  to  remain  ignorant  of  any  thing 
that  was  stirring.  His  affection  as  a  father  also 
made  him  a  delighted  listener  to  the  minstrel's  song, 
for  the  burthen  of  it  was  often  the  knightly  deeds  of 
his  own  spirited  children. 

Richard  was  the  first  to  disturb  this  family  har- 
mony by  sounding  the  discordant  note  of  war.  On 
this  occasion  it  was,  however,  against  his  brothers, 
and  not  his  father,  that  the  prince  took  up  arms.  The 
king  had  called  upon  Richard  to  do  homage  to  his 
elder  brother,  Henry,  for  the  duchy  of  Acmitaine. 
This  he  refused  to  do,  and  the  consequence  was  that 
Prince  Henry,  allying  himself  with  his  younger 
brother,  Geoffrey,  marched  an  army  into  Aquitaine, 
to  compel  Richard  to  obedience.  The  father  hastened 
to  prevent  this  unnatural  conflict,  and  succeeded  so 
far  in  conciliating  the  brothers  that  they  met  and 
promised,  in  presence  of  King  Henry,  to  live  together 
as  brothers  should.  Concord,  however,  was  always 
of  short  duration  in  that  royal  family,  and  it  was 
openly  confessed  by  its  members  that  they  could  not 
live  in  harmony.  Geoffrey  was  sinful  and  irreverent 
enough  to  declare  that  the  only  possible  bond  of 
agreement  among  the  children  was  opposition  to  the 
father.  Prince  Richard,  referring  to  some  early  tra- 
ditions (which  superstition  connected  with  diabolical 
agency)  of  the  Plantagenet  family,  to  which  he  be- 
longed, used  to  say,  "  it  was  not  astonishing  that  he 


26  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

and  his  brothers,  issuing  from  such  a  stock,  should  be 
so  fierce  and  lawless,  for  it  was  quite  natural  that 
what  came  from  the  devil  should  go  to  the  devil." 

Aquiiaine  and  Poictou,  which  were  destined  for  the 
inheritance  of  Richard,  and  of  which  he  enjoyed  in 
part  the  rule  and  revenues,  were  a  portion  of  the 
dominions  brought  by  Queen  Eleanor  as  her  dower 
to  King  Henry.  The  people  of  these  provinces  were 
devoted  to  their  mistress ;  they  beheld  in  her  the 
representative  of  their  old  princely  stock ;  she  was 
their  chieftain,  and  nothing  could  alienate  the  attach- 
ment of  those  ardent  and  poetical  people  from  the 
traditional  associations  connected  with  the  descendant 
of  their  great  chiefs.  The  imprisonment  of  Queen 
Eleanor  by  her  husband  was  of  course  bitterly  grieved 
at  by  her  people,  and  they  fiercely  sought  to  revenge 
this  injury  to  their  beloved  mistress,  and  insult  to 
their  loyalty.  All  means  were  considered  by  them 
just  in  retribution  of  this  wrong,  and  they  did  not 
hesitate  even  to  stir  up  disaffection  in  the  family  of 
the  king  of  England,  that  they  might  array  the  sons 
against  the  father,  in  order  to  revenge  the  mother 
and  the  wrongs  of  Poictou  and  Aquitaine. 

The  troubadours  sang,  in  mingled  strains  of  sorrow 
and  anger,  the  captivity  of  Eleanor.  "  Thou  wast 
carried  from  thine  own  land"  is  the  lament  of  one  of 
those  early  poets,  "  and  transported  to  a  land  thou 
knowest  not  of.  Thou  wast  brought"  up  in  all  abund- 
ance and  delicacy,  and  in  a  royal  liberty,  living  in 


His  FHial  Love.  27 

the  lap  of  riches,  enjoying  the  sports  of  thy  maidens 
and  their  pleasant  songs,  to  the  soft  accomjjaniment 
of  the  lute  and  tabor ;  and  now  thou  weopest  and 
Iamentest,  consuming  thy  days  in  grief.  Eeturn, 
poor  prisoner,  return  to  thy  faithful  cities  !  "Where 
is  now  thy  court  ?  Where  are  thy  young  com- 
panions 1  Where  thy  counsellors  V  And  then  the 
poet  rises  from  these  low  sobbing  words  of  mourn- 
ing and  lament  to  high,  inspiriting  trumpet-tones  of 
war  and  revenge.  "  Thou  criest,  and  no  one  hears 
thee,  for  the  northern  king  keeps  thee  shut  up  like  a 
besieged  town ;  but  still  cry  aloud,  and  tire  not  of 
crying.  Raise  thy  voice  like  a  trumpet,  that  thy 
sons  may  hear  thee ;  for  the  day  is  at  hand  when  thy 
sons  shall  deliver  thee,  and  when  thou  shalt  see  thy 
native  land  again.  "Woe  to  the  traitors  that  are  in 
Aquitaine,  for  the  day  of  vengeance  is  near.  Fly 
before  the  face  of  bold  Richard,  Duke  of  Aquitaine, 
for  he  will  overthrow  the  vain-glorious,  break  their 
chariots  and  those  that  ride  in  them.  Yea,  he  will 
annihilate  all  who  oppose,  from  the  greatest  to  the 
least !" 

Richard  loved  his  mother  with  all  the  warmth  of 
an  affectionate  son,  and  deeply  felt  her  wrongs.  "We 
may  thus  find  some  excuse  for  him,  in  his  rebellion 
against  his  father,  as  he  was  led  to  believe  that  lie 
was  fulfilling  his  duty  to  one  parent  while  openly 
failing  in  that  toward  the  other.  The  naturally  tur- 
oulent  disposition  of  the  family  had  something  to  do 


28  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

with  these  family  quarrels  ;  but  the  chief  cause  may 
be  found  in  the  unfortunate  estrangement  between 
the  king  and  queen.  These  disagreements  seemed 
never  destined  to  cease.  On  one  occasion,  after  a 
lengthened  conflict,  when  Geoffrey  was  alone  in  arms 
against  his  father,  an  appointment  was  made  for  the 
purpose  of  conciliation.  Limoges  was  the  place 
selected  for  the  meeting.  King  Henry,  in  the  full 
confidence  of  a  fiither's  love,  rode  to  the  gates  of  the 
city,  and  was  repulsed  with  a  shower  of  arrows,  some 
of  which  pierced  his-  armor  and  wounded  a  knight  at 
his  side.  This  looked  treacherous,  but  the  king  was 
satisfied  by  the  explanation  that  it  was  a  mistake, 
and  he  was  promised  free  entrance  to  the  town.  He 
accordingly  entered,  and  met  his  son  in  the  centre  of 
the  market-place,  where  he  was  again  saluted  with  a 
discharge  of  arrows,  one  of  which  wounded  the  horse 
he  rode,  in  the  head.  The  king  was  overcome,  and 
weeping  bitterly,  and  taking  the  arrow,  presented  it 
to  his  son  Geoffrey,  and  sobbed  out,  in  tones  of  agoniz- 
ing grief,  "  O  son !  what  hath  thy  unhappy  father 
done  to  deserve  that  thou  shouldest  make  him  a  mark 
for  thine  arrows  ?"  This  wicked  attempt  to  kill  the 
king  has  been  charged  upon  the  son,  although  it  is 
more  natural  or  humane  to  suppose  that  he  did  not 
connive  at  it,  but  that  it  was  done  at  the  order  of 
some  one  of  the  fierce  barons  of  Aquitaine  unknown 
to  Geoffrey. 

Soon  after  this,  the  eldest  son  of  the  king,  Prince 


Death  of  Prince  Henry.  29 

Henry,  was  taken  dangerously  ill  at  Chateau  Martel, 
near  Limoges.  He  sent  for  his  father  to  visit  him, 
that  he  might  forgive  him,  as  he  "believed  himself  on 
the  bed  of  death.  The  father  was  eager  to  hasten  to 
his  dying  child,  but  his  courtiers  prevented  him; 
believing  that  this  sickness  was  a  mere  pretense — a 
trap  set  to  inveigle  the  king  into  the  power  of  his 
enemies.  Henry,  however,  sent  the  Archbishop  of 
Bordeaux  to  his  son  at  once,  and  taking  a  ring  from 
his  finger,  ordered  the  prelate  to  give  it  to  his  son  as 
a  token  of  his  forgiveness.  Shortly  after,  a  messen- 
ger arrived,  announcing  the  death  of  the  prince. 
He  was  twenty-seven  years  old  when  he  died.  An 
early  death,  says  an  old  historian,  if  you  consider  his 
age,  but  much  too  late  a  one  if  you  regard  his  acts. 
His  life  was  spent  in  violent  disobedience  to  his  father, 
and  the  young  man,  on  his  death-bed,  felt  all  the 
horrors  of  remorse  for  his  wicked  conduct.  King 
Henry's  messenger,  the  archbishop,  had  arrived  in 
time  to  assure  him  of  his  father's  forgiveness,  and 
administer  the  last  rites  of  religion.  The  prince 
pressed,  in  the  agonies  of  death,  his  father's  ring  to 
his  fevered  lips,  and  kissed  this  memorial  of  a  parent's 
forgiveness  with  all  the  devotion  of  a  penitent  son. 
His  dying  words  were  of  confession,  remorse,  and 
repentance.  He  openly  acknowledged  his  undutiful- 
ness  and  the  crimes  of  his  wicked  career,  and  in 
hopeless  penance  for  his  sins  ordered  his  helpless, 
dying  body  to  be  dragged  by  a  rope  from  his  couch  to 


30  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

a  "bed  of  ashes,  that  he  might  suffer  the  last  agonies 
of  death  in.  humiliation. 

His  father  was  greatly  moved  when  he  learned 
that  his  eldest  son  was  no  more;  but  his  deep  sorrow 
as  a  bereaved  parent  did  not  weaken  his  sense  of 
duty  as  a  king.  The  very  day  after  the  funeral  he 
was  up  in  arms,  and  attacked,  with  unabated  vigor, 
the  rebels,  to  whose  machinations  he  was  disposed  to 
attribute  his  son's  rebellion.  Limoges  was  taken  by 
assault,  castle  after  castle  was  stormed  and  taken, 
and  the  ringleaders  captured.  Bertrand  de  Blois,  a 
noble  of  Aquitaine,  a  man  of  great  courage  and 
ability,  was  the  chief  of  the  captives.  This  baron 
was  a  man  of  high  accomplishments  for  the  age  in 
which  he  lived,  and  was  not  only  a  gallant  knight,  hut 
a  man  of  varied  accomplishments,  and  a  poet  withal. 
His  seductive  maimers  were  such  that  few  could 
resist  their  influence,  and  it  was  supposed  that  he  had 
exercised  his  irresistible  power  upon  the  young 
princes  and  excited  them  to  rebellion.  "  He  must 
surely  die  !"  said  King  Henry,  when  De  Blois  was 
dragged  a  captive  into  his  presence.  Taunting  him 
with  his  boasted  wit,  which  was  said  never  to  fail,  the 
king  said,  "  I  think  thou  has  lost  thy  wits."  "  Yes, 
sire,"  replied  Bertrand,  in  a  tone  of  deep  sorrow, 
"  I  lost  them  the  day  the  valiant  young  king  died." 
This  brought  up  the  memory  of  his  lost  child,  and 
completely  overcame  the  father's  equanimity;  he 
burst  into  tears  and  nearly  swooned.    On  recovering, 


Reconciliation,  of  Royal  Family.  31 

his  anger  had  gone,  and.  his  heart  was  softened  to 
mercy.  "  Sir  Bertrand,"  said  he,  "  Sir  Bertrand, 
thou  mightest  well  lose  thy  wits  because  of  my  son, 
for  he  loved  thee  more  than  any  other  man  on  earth ; 
and  I,  for  love  of  him,  give  thee  thy  life,  thy  pro- 
perty, thy  castle." 

After  the  death  of  Prince  Henry,  Geoffrey  asked 
his  father's  pardon,  which  the  king's  generous  heart 
readily  granted.  The  family  were  now,  for  a  time, 
all  reconciled,  and  poor  Eleanor,  the  queen,  was 
released  from  prison,- for  a  moment,  that  she  might 
be  present  to  witness  the  solemnization  of  this  rare 
union  of  the  kmg's  discordant  household.  John,  too, 
the  youngest  of  the  princes,  whose  youth,  thus  far, 
had  saved  him  from  the  sin  of  rebellion,  was  also 
present.  Geoffrey,  however,  soon  forgot  his  pro- 
mises, and  was  again  in  arms  against  his  father,  until 
his  unnatural  and  violent  career  was  brought  to  an 
appropriate  close  by  his  being  thrown  from  his  horse 
while  engaged  in  a  tournament,  and  trampled  to 
death. 

Louis  VII.  of  France  was  now  dead,  and  had  been 
6ucceeded  by  his  son,  Philip  II.,  a  young  and  spirited 
prince.  He  had  his  father's  ambition  to  weaken  the 
power  and  bend  the  pride  of  England,  but  had  more 
than  his  father's  capacity  to  cope  with  the  brave  and 
able  Henry.  Philip  made  a  great  show  of  honor 
to  the  memory  of  the  wicked  Geoffrey,  and  great  was 


32  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  pomp  and  display  of  the  funereal  ceremonies  that 
the  French  king  exhibited  on  the  occasion. 

King  Philip  affected  great  love  for  Prince  Richard, 
and  accordingly  invited  him  to  the  French  court, 
where  such  was  the  intimacy  of  these  young  princes, 
that  they  eat  at  the  same  table,  say  the  old  chroni- 
clers, and  out  of  the  same  dish  by  day,  and  slept  in  the 
same  bed  by  night.  The  purpose  of  this  affected 
love,  on  the  part  of  the  French  king,  was  very  clear. 
He  strove  to  weaken  the  power  of  King  Henry,  by 
exciting  the  son  to  oppose  his  father.  The  English 
king  shrewdly  suspected  the  design  and  sent  for 
Richard,  who  repeatedly  answered  that  he  was  com- 
ing, while  he  yet  lingered.  He  at  last  left  the  French 
court,  not  to  fly  to  the  embraces  of  his  father,  but, 
robber-like,  to  seize  a  treasure,  and  to  excite  the 
people  of  Aquitaine  to  insurrection.  He  failed,  how- 
ever, in  his  unholy  attempt,  and  was  forced  to  sue  for 
his  father's  forgiveness.  The  king,  who  had  learned 
by  sad  experience  to  distrust  his  son's  promises  of 
amendment,  forced  him,  on  this  occasion,  to  confirm 
his  word  by  a  solemn  oath,  on  a  copy  of  the  Holy 
Evangelists,  in  the  presence  of  an  imposing  conclave, 
lay  and  clerical. 

This,  however,  was  oidy  a  temporary  lull  of  the 
domestic  war,  which  was  incessantly  carried  on 
between  King  Henry  and  his  unruly  family.  The 
hot-headed  Richard  could  neither-quell  his  fiery  tern- 


Failure  of  Negotiation.  33 

per,  nor  subject  his  restless,  independent  spirit  to  the 
will  of  his  father.  The  young  French  king,  Philip, 
was  ready,  too,  for  his  own  purposes  of  state  policy, 
to  encourage  the  untamed  prince  in  his  willful  oppo- 
sition to  the  king  of  England.  Another  conference 
was  held  beneath  the  famous  elm-tree,  at  Gisors,  in 
France.  Both  kings  were  there,  with  the  impetuous 
.Richard ;  but  whatever  might  have  been  the  peaceful 
designs  of  the  royal  parties,  nothing  but  discord  and 
angry  feeling  were  the  result.  The  young  king  of 
France  lost  all  self-command,  and  swearing  by  the 
saints,  that  as  they  could  not  agree,  no  more  parleys 
should  be  held  under  the  famous  elm,  in  a  rage 
he  cut  it  down. 

Richard,  as  has  been  already  stated,  had  been 
affianced  at  the  early  age  of  twelve,  to  Adelais  or 
Alice,  the  daughter  of  Louis  VII.,  and  sister  of  King 
Philip.  She  had  been,  ever  since,  placed  under  the 
guardianship  of  King  Henry,  who  seemed  resolved 
not  to  yield  her  up,  in  spite  of  the  ei  treaties  and 
threats  of  his  son  Richard.  The  young  people  had 
now  reached  the  proper  age  for  marriage.  The 
prince  naturally  claimed  his  right  to  the  hand  of  the 
fair  Alice,  and  there  was  no  good  reason  why  his 
just  request  should  not  be  complied  with.  The  king's 
conduct,  in  regard  to  this  affair,  seems  mysterious, 
and  can  be  only  explained  by  the  opinion,  that  he 
had  himself  become  enamored  of  the  French  princess, 
and  had  determined  to  dispose  of  her  for  his  own 
3 


34  The  Lion-Hcarted  King. 

behoof.  Henry  had  tried  to  obtain  from  the  Pope 
of  Eome,  a  divorce  from  his  wife  Eleanor,  with  the 
purpose,  it  was  said,  of  espousing  Alice,  the  betrothed 
of  Richard.  King  Philip  of  Prance,  indignant  at 
this  retention  of  his  sister,  peremptorily  summoned 
the  English  king  to  yield  her  up,  that  Richard  might 
have  his  own,  and  that  Alice  might  be  saved  the  dis- 
honor of  an  unworthy  alliance  with  the  father. 

Richard  had  just  cause  of  complaint  against  his 
father  for  keeping  the  fair  Alice;  but  this  was  not  the 
main  motive  which  impelled  him  again  to  take  up 
arms  against  King  Henry.  It  was  probable,  as  the 
sequel  will  show,  that  he  cared  but  little  for  Alice, 
however  fair  she  may  have  been.  The  prince  pre- 
ferred the  rude  excitement  of  war  to  the  soft  delights 
of  love,  and  chose  rather  to  tussle  in  fierce  encounter 
with  Mars,  than  to  linger  in  the  amorous  embraces 
of  Venus. 

Alice  and  Richard  had  seen  but  little  of  each  other, 
and  had  been  affianced,  as  children,  because  it  suited 
the  policy  of  their  parents.  The  former  were  too 
young  and  thoughtless  to  think  of  love ;  the  latter,  too 
old  and  ambitious  to  regard  it.  We  may  conclude 
that  Richard's  heart  was  not  much  concerned  in  the 
demand  he  made  for  Alice.  King  Henry,  however, 
was  none  the  less  to  blame  for  his  conduct  in  with- 
holding from  his  son  his  bride. 

Richard's  ambitious  longings  for  power,  and  the 
belief  that  the  crown  of  England  was  destined,  by 


Richard  breaks  his  Allegiance.  35 

King  Henry,  for  his  younger  brother  John,  were  the 
chief  causes  of  this  new  resistance  to  his  father. 

Another  conference  was  held  in  Normandy.  Philip 
proposed  that  Alice  should  be  given  up  to  Richard, 
and  that  that  prince  should  be  declared  heir,  not  only 
to  England,  but  to  all  the  continental  dominions,  and 
that  the  king  should  cause  his  vassals  to  swear  fealty 
to  Richard.  Henry  peremptorily  refused  the  latter 
demand.  Richard  was  enraged,  and  he  exclaimed 
with  great  energy,  "  This  forces  me  to  believe  that 
winch  I  before  deemed  impossible."  The  prince 
referred  to  the  report  that  Prince  John  had  been 
preferred  by  his  father,  as  heir  to  the  crown.  It  was 
evidently  the  throne  of  England  that  was  uppermost 
in  his  heart,  and  not  the  hand  of  the  fair  Alice.  He 
struck  for  the  prize  of  kingdoms,  and  not  for  the  con- 
quest of  a  girl.  Richard  would  rather  fight  for  power 
than  sue  for  love.  His  nature  was  essentially  resist- 
ing and  warlike.  A  violent  altercation  ensued  during 
the  conference,  and  Richard,  on  the  refusal  of  his 
father  to  grant  his  demands,  furiously  turned  from 
him,  and  ungirding  the  sword  by  his  side,  threw  him- 
self on  his  knees  at  the  feet  of  the  king  of  France, 
and  placing  his  hands  between  his,  said,  "To  you, 
sire,  I  commit  the  protection  of  myself  and  my 
hereditary  rights,  and  to  you  I  do  homage  for  all  my 
father's  dominions  on  this  side  the  sea."  King  Henry, 
terribly  excited  by  this  violent  rupture  and  bold 
defiance  of  his  rights  as  king,  and  claims  as  father, 


36  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

hastily  sprung  upon  his  horse  and  galloped,  away 
Henry,  almost  broken-hearted,  and  suffering  from 
disease  of  body  as  well  as  agony  of  mind,  did  not 
show  his  usual  activity  and  spirit.  King  Philip  and 
Richard  were  allowed,  in  consequence,  to  make  for- 
midable headway.  They  took  castle  after  castle, 
town  after  town,  vinopposed,  while  the  king,  bent  as 
he  was  by  grief  and  bodily  suffering,  yielded  unre- 
sistingly to  each  successive  blow. 

The  Church,  however,  came  to  the  aid  of  the  Eng- 
lish king,  and  by  its  threats  of  interdict  and  excom- 
munication did  more  by  its  spiritual  artillery  than 
the  broken-hearted  and  now  feeble  and  unnerved 
Henry  could  do  with  sword  and  battle-axe.  Another 
conference  was  held,  the  same  demands  were  made 
by  the  king  of  France,  and  Richard,  but  were  again 
refused.  Henry  proposed  that  Alice  should  be  given 
in  marriage  to  Prince  John,  and  that  he  should  be 
declared  heir  to  the  French  portion  of  his  dominions. 
Richard  would  not  consent,  and  Philip  was  faithful 
friend  enough  to  second  the  prince  in  his  refusal.  The 
cardinal  legate,  John  of  Anagni,  who  was  present 
at  the  conference  as  the  representative  of  the  Pope, 
and  as  the  advocate  of  the  cause  of  the  king  of  Eng- 
land, rebuked  the  French  king,  and  threatened  France 
with  a  papal  interdict.  Philip  spiritedly  despised, 
the  threat,  and  told  the  proud  prelate  that  he  had 
sold  himself — that  he  could  easily  perceive  that  he  had 
smelt   of   the   English    pounds   sterling.     Richard, 


The  King  Suppliant.  37 

whose  sword  was  always  his  first  and  last  appeal, 
could  not  contain  his  fierce  temper,  and  was  for  cut- 
ting down  the  prelate  without  more  ado,  hut  was 
timely  prevented  from  so  audacious  an  act  hy  tha 
mediation  of  others. 

Sad  and  dispirited,  King  Henry  rode  away.  Aqui 
taine,  Poictou,  and  Brittany  rose  in  opposition  to 
him,  and  his  barons  on  all  sides  engaged  in  conspira- 
cies against  his  declining  power.  The  hold  heart  to 
conceive,  the  determined  will  to  do,  and  the  strong 
arm  to  strike  the  blow,  were  no  longer  his.  He  felt 
his  weakness  and  knew  that  he  was  at  the  mercy  of 
his  enemies.  The  proud  Henry  then  first  bent  the 
knee  in  suppliance,  and  he  sued  for  peace,  throwing 
himself  upon  the  mercy  of  Philip  and  Eichard,  to 
whom  he  promised  to  submit  to  such  terms  as  they 
might  in  their  good  pleasure  bestow. 

The  plain  of  Azar  was  selected  for  a  meeting 
between  the  kings  of  England  and  France  to  agree 
upon  the  terms  of  a  treaty.  The  two  monarchs,  on 
horseback,  met  and  rode  together  on  the  plain. 
Prince  Richard,  also  mounted,  stationed  himself  at  a 
distance,  awaiting  the  issue  with  some  feeling  of  re- 
verence for  his  father  and  shame  at  his  own  share  in 
that  royal  father's  humiliation.  Philip  and  Henry 
had  stopped  their  horses  and  commenced  a  parley, 
when  of  a  sudden  a  dark  cloud  overshadowed  the 
plain  and  threw  a  gloom  over  nature,  which  was  in 
harmony  with  the  sombre  grief  in  which  the  heart  of 


38  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  English  king  was  wrapt  Henry  had  just  ven- 
tured a  gentle  objection  to  a  proposition  of  Philip 
when  a  bright  flash  of  lightning,  glancing  with 
fearful  vividness  between  the  two,  followed  by  the  roar 
of  thunder,  blinded  and  silenced  the  monarehs.  The 
startled  horses  sj^rimg  back,  and  the  English  king, 
trembling  with  excitement,  would  have  fallen  from 
his  seat  had  not  his  attendants  rushed  to  his  support. 
It  seemed  to  the  prostrate  monarch  as  if  the  eye  of 
God  had  looked  dreadfully  upon  him  in  the  glare  of 
his  lightning,  and  had  spoken  to  him  in  the  voice  of 
his  thunder,  commanding  him  to  yield;  and  with  fear 
and  trembling,  he  hurriedly  consented  to  every 
demand  of  the  Erench  king.  The  only  condition  he 
asked,  was  that  as  he  had  granted  pardon  to  all  who 
had  risen  in  rebellion  against  him,  he  might  be 
graciously  permitted  to  see  a  list  of  their  names. 
The  scroll  was  handed  to  him  while  prostrate  with 
sickness.  The  first  name  was  that  of  his  son  John. 
The  cup  of  bitterness  was  at  its  full,  and  the  unhappy 
monarch  now  suffered  the  dying  agonies  of  a  broken 
heart.  Henry,  Geoffrey,  Richard,  and  John — all 
rebels  to  their  king  and  fiither.  The  last  was  the 
saddest  blow  of  all.  To  be  bereaved  of  the  love  of 
his  youngest,  the  beloved  of  his  declining  years,  was 
an  affliction  too  great  for  endurance.  The  king  was 
in  the  vigor  of  his  manhood  and  in  the  fullness  of 
prosperity  when  his  elder  sons  first  rebelled,  and  he 
could  find  in  the  exercise  of  his  kingly  offices  and  in 


The  Broken  Heart.  39 

the  excitement  of  battle  a  diversion  from  the  sorrows 
of  a  grieving  father.  John,  however,  had  forsaken 
him  in  his  age  and  adversity,  and  while  the  king,  tot- 
tering in  his  weakness,  leaned  upon  him  as  his  only 
support,  the  youthful  sapling  sprung  from  the  feeble 
hand,  and  the  old  man  fell  prostrate  on  the  ground. 

"  Is  it  true  that  John,  the  child  of  my  heart,  whom 
I  have  cherished  more  than  all  the  rest,  and  for  the 
love  of  whom  I  have  drawn  down  upon  mine  own 
head  all  these  troubles,  hath  verily  betrayed  me  ?" 
Thus  cried  the  king  in  the  agony  of  his  breaking 
heart  as  he  started  from  his  bed  and  gazed  wildly 
about.  No  one  could  deny  it.  Then  the  unhappy 
king  exclaimed,  "  Now,  then,  let  every  thing  go  as  it 
will,  I  have  no  longer  care  for  myself  or  the  world," 
and  he  fell  back  upon  his  bed  and  turned  his  face  to 
the  wall. 

Chinon,  beautifully  situated  on  the  banks  of  the 
French  river  Loire,  was  the  favorite  residence  of  the 
Norman  kings;  and  it  was  here  in  the  retirement  of  its 
groves  and  within  the  sound  of  the  murmurs  of  its 
river  flowing  on  to  the  boundless  ocean,  that  King 
Henry  desired  to  linger  out  his  last  hours  in  quiet 
contemplation,  as  his  stream  of  life  was  fast  flowing 
into  eternity.  He  accordingly  was  conveyed  there 
in  a  litter ;  but  the  change  had  no  effect  upon  the  mind 
or  disease  of  the  doomed  king.  He  grew  worse  and 
worse,  and  finally  gave  up  all  hope  and  yielded  him- 
self up  to  death.     In  his  last  moments  he  was  heard 


40  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

to  mutter  in  wild  and  broken  accents,  "  O  shame !  a 
conquered  king !  I  a  conquered  Icing  !  Cursed  be 
the  day  on  which  I  was  born,  and  cursed  of  God  the 
children  I  leave  behind  me."  He  was  urged  by  the 
priests  in  attendance  to  retract  these  awful  curses, 
but  would  not.  The  king  can  be  hardly  held  responsi- 
ble for  these  words  which  passed  his  dying  lips,  as 
they  were  probably  uttered  in  the  delirium  of 
approaching  death. 

Henry  had  an  illegitimate  son  by  the  fair  Rosa- 
mond, of  the  name  of  Geoffrey,  who  was  chancellor 
of  England.  He  proved  the  most  faithful  of  his 
children,  and  hurried  to  the  side  of  his  dying  father. 
The  king  received  him  with  a  joy  that  brightened  up 
the  features  of  the  dying  man ;  he  gave  him  the 
ring  from  his  finger,  and  with  a  bitter  sarcasm,  ex- 
pressing a  hope  that  Richard  would  pardon  his  fidelity 
to  his  king  and  Ins  affection  for  his  father,  desired 
that  he  might  be  elevated  to  the  archbishopric  of 
York,  or  the  see  of  Winchester. 

The  king  rapidly  failed,  and  in  a  spirit  of  devotional 
piety,  with  his  last  breath,  desired  to  be  carried  to  the 
church,  where  he  was  borne,  and  died  at  the  foot  of 
the  holy  altar.  Ministers,  barons,  bishops,  and  priests, 
with  the  characteristic  heartlcssness  of  courtiers,  hur- 
ried away  while  the  last,  breath  was  moist  upon  the 
pallid  lips  of  the  dead  king.  The  menial  attendants 
followed  the  example  of  their  betters,  and  after  hav- 
ing stripped  the  body  and  stolen  all  they  could  lay 


The  Last  Ititervietv.  41 

their  hands  on,  fled,  leaving  what  was  mortal  of  the 
king  to  the  chance  reverence  of  the  passer-by. 
After  some  delay,  a  few  humble  persons  were  found 
to  wrap  the  body  in  a  winding-sheet  and  bear  it  to 
its  last  resting-place  in  the  Abbey  of  Pontevraud. 
Richard,  who  had  heard  of  the  death  of  his  father, 
hurried  to  pay  the  last,  unavailing  respect  to  his 
remains.  He  met  the  procession,  and  must  have 
learned  a  lesson  of  humility  while  he  beheld  the 
royal  corpse  borne  by  the  hands  of  strangers. 
Richard  followed  it  to  the  tomb ;  and  uncovering  the 
remains,  was  face  to  face  with  his  father,  who  in  death 
preserved  that  expression  of  despair  and  suffering 
which  betokened  a  ,long  agony  of  body  and  soul. 
The  son  looked  on  in  silence,  but  his  whole  frame 
shook  with  emotion,  and  he  fell  prostrate  before  the 
altar,  where  he  poured  out  a  prayer,  intermingled 
with  bursts  of  passionate  remorse. 

The  old  chroniclers  record  that  the  body  of  the 
king  never  ceased  to  bleed  at  both  nostrils  while 
Richard  was  in  its  presence.  "  The  very  corpse,  as  it 
were,  abhorring  and  accusing  him  for  his  unnatural 
behavior." 


CHAPTER    II. 

RICHARD  the  First  was  thirty-two  years  old 
when  he  ascended  the  throne  of  England.  He 
was  in  the  full  vigor  of  a  ripe  manhood.  A  remark" 
able  man  in  appearance,  was  this  lion-hearted  king. 
He  was  tall  in  stature,  being  over  six  feet  in  height, 
and  his  muscular  development  was  proportionate. 
With  the  strength  of  a  Hercules,  he  had  truly  the 
heart  of  a  lion.  His  arms  were  somewhat  of  dispro- 
portionate length,  but  were  completely  under  the 
mastery  of  his  iron  will,  and  no  one  of  his  day,  when 
personal  strength  was  carefully  developed  by  manly 
exercise,  could  wield  a  battle-axe  or  use  a  sword  with 
so  much  force.  The  battle-axe  was  the  king's  favor- 
ite weapon ;  and  before  he  left  for  the  Crusades,  he  had 
one,  the  largest  ever  manufactured,  made  for  him  by 
some  of  the  most  skillful  of  his  English  handicrafts- 
men. The  head  of  it  alone,  wrought  of  the  best-tem- 
pered steel,  weighed  over  twenty  pounds,  and  this 
famous  axe  was  expressly  made,  according  to  a 
rhyming  chronicler  of  the  times — 

"  To  break  therewith  the  Saracen's  bones." 

We  shall  have  occasion  to  record  the  doughty  service 


Personal  Appearance.  43 

of  this  famous  weapon,  wielded  by  the  stalwart 
Richard.  Nothing  could  resist  the  blow  of  his  strong 
arm :  whether  it  was  to  cleave  a  helmet  in  the  deadly 
conflict  of  battle,  poise  a  lance,  or  struggle  hand  to 
hand  in  the  rude  game  of  the  tournament,  Eichard's 
strength  never  failed  to  tell ;  and  his  enemy  in  war, 
or  his  competitor  in  the  tourney,  was  sure  to  bite  the 
dust. 

His  yellowish,  auburn  hair,  his  ruddy  com- 
plexion, browned  from  exposure,  his  curling  beard 
and  moustache,  with  his  brawny,  full-rounded,  and 
yet  well-knit  limbs,  his  arched  chest  and  lofty  stature, 
proved  him  of  true  Norman  blood,  and  he  was  one 
of  the  noblest  knights  of  that  doughty  stock.  When 
roused,  his  eyes,  which  were  ordinarily  piercing  and 
brilliant,  became  so  fired  with  intensity  that  none 
could  withstand  their  glance,  and  his  boldest  enemy 
shrunk  back  affrighted  at  his  terrible  look.  His  tem- 
perament was  ardent  and  impulsive ;  he  was  quick 
to  take  offense  as  he  was  ready  to  forgive.  He  was 
rash  and  headstrong,  imperious  in  will,  and  could  brook 
no  opposition.  He  was  incomparably  brave,  his  de- 
light was  in  war,  and  he  sought  every  occasion  for  the 
indulgence  of  his  favorite  occupation.  Well  disciplined 
in  the  exercise  of  arms  by  those  wicked  assaults  upon 
his  father's  rights,  and  frequent  civil  wars,  ho  became 
at  an  early  age  an  experienced  soldier,  and  when  he 
received  the  crown  of  England,  was  undoubtedly  the 
bravest  knight  and  greatest  warrior  of  his  age. 


44  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Though  King  Richard  loved  the  clash  of  arms,  and 
the  fierce  excitement  of  the  battle-field,  he  was 
remarkable,  according  to  the  times  in  which  he  lived, 
for  his  culture,  and  was  skilled  in  the  gentle  art  of 
minstrelsy.  He  was  deeply  enamored  of  the  poetry 
that  was  cultivated  in  the  middle  ages,  and  held  a 
high  rank  himself  among  the  gay  Troubadours. 

Richard's  first  act,  as  king,  was  to  perform  his . 
duty  as  son;  and  he  released  his  mother,  Queen 
Eleanor,  from  her  captivity.  This  proud  woman's 
spirit  had  been  curbed  by  her  long  imprisonment. 
For  sixteen  years,  this  restless,  ambitious  queen  had 
checked  her  flight  against  the  prison-bars,  and  bruised 
her  heart,  in  its  hopeless  fluttering,  against  the  cruel 
and  unmoved  resolve  of  the  resolute  King  Henry. 
When  she  was  restored  to  the  light  and  boundless 
space  of  liberty,  her  eyes  no  longer  wandered  from 
the  path  of  duty,  nor  did  she  essay  a  flight  beyond 
the  limits  of  her  modest  life  as  mother.  Her  first 
act,  on  being  restored  to  freedom,  was  a  generous 
bestowal  of  alms  to  the  poor,  that  they  might  pray 
for  the  soul  of  her  dead  husband — a  pious  deed,  that 
betokened  remorse  for  her  own  willful  conduct,  and 
forgiveness  for  the  king's  cruel  treatment.  Eleanor 
was  invested  with  the  office  of  Regent  of  England, 
during  King  Richard's  detention  in  Normandy. 
While  in  the  exercise  of  her  brief  authority,  she  gave 
proof  of  a  tenderness  of  heart  that  showed  how  much 
her   early  nature  was  subdued.     She  abounded  in 


Coronation.  45 

works  of  mercy,  released  those  who  had  been  unjustly 
imprisoned,  and  mitigated  the  severity  of  many  of 
the  laws,  the  weight  of  which  pressed  heavily  upon 
the  English  people.  Richard,  either  from  a  rever- 
ence for  the  memory  of  his  father,  or  remorseful 
remembrance  of  his  own  wicked  rebellion,  or  from  a 
consideration  of  state  policy,  persecuted  those  who 
had  plotted  against  the  late  king,  and  did  not  even 
spare  his  own  friends,  whom  he,  the  chief  traitor,  had 
led  to  rebellion.  His  brother  was  the  only  exception, 
and  him  he  treated  with  unusual  indulgence  and  the 
most  brotherly  kindness. 

A  great  festival  was  held  on  the  occasion  of  the 
king's  coronation.  Westminster  was  chosen  for  the 
impressive'  scene.  The  great  ecclesiastics,  cardinals, 
abbots,  and  bishops  were  there,  in  their  rich  robes 
of  priestly  office,  to  shed  a  sacred  halo  upon  the  cere- 
mony, while  the  bold  barons,  whose  glistening  armor 
flashed  defiance,  and  whose  battle-axes  and  sword- 
blades  dimmed  the  eye  with  their  dazzling  brightness 
and  threatening  aspect,  were  also  there  in  full  array, 
a  rampart  of  knightly  princes,  with  bold  hearts  and 
strong  arms  to  defend  the  throne.  The  old  chroni- 
clers record  that  in  the  morning,  the  bishops,  abbots, 
and  clergy  went  in  procession  to  the  palace,  bearing 
the  cross  before  them  and  carrying  censers.  The 
king,  who  was  in  his  private  apartments,  joined  them 
at  the  palace,  and  the  procession  moved  on  to  West- 
minster, the  road  from  the  palace  to  the  abbey  being 


46  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

laid  with  broadcloth.  First  walked  the  clergy,  bear- 
ing the  cross,  the  censers,  and  vessels  filled  with  holy 
water;  after  them  came  the  priors,  abbots,  and 
bishops,  in  the  centre  of  whom  were  four  barons, 
carrying  enormous  candlesticks  of  pure  gold ;  then 
came  Godfrey  de  Lucy,  with  the  cap  of  state,  and 
John  de  Mareschall  with  the  golden  spurs ;  next, 
William,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  with  the  sceptre,  and 
William,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  with  the  rod  and  dove ; 
after  these  came  David,  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  brother 
to  the  king  of  Scotland,  Prince  John,  and  Robert, 
Earl  of  Leicester,  bearing  three  swords,  the  scabbards 
of  which  were  inlaid  with  gold  ;  they  were  followed 
by  six  earls  and  six  barons,  carrying  a  magnificent 
casket,  in  which  were  the  insignia  of  royalty  and  the 
state  robes ;  then  came  William  de  Mandeville,  Earl 
of  Albemarle,  carrying  the  crown  before  the  king, 
who  had  on  one  side  of  him  the  Bishop  of  Durham, 
and  on  the  other,  the  Bishop  of  Bath,  while  a  splendid 
canopy  of  rich  silk  was  borne  on  lances,  by  four 
barons,  above  his  head. 

An  enormous  crowd  of  the  citizens  and  other 
denizens  of  London  and  of  all  parts  of  the  country, 
followed  the  procession  until  it  entered  the  Abbey, 
where  it  passed  up  the  centre,  which  was  covered 
with  rich  cloth  of  the  superb  Tyrian  dye,  and  Avas 
met  by  Baldwin,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who 
was  in  attendance  at  the  altar.  Richard  knelt  down 
before  the  altar  and  swore  the  usual  oath.     Having 


Wealthy   Citizens,  Servants.  47 

been  divested  of  his  mantle  and  upper  garments,  and 
sandals,  richly  worked  with  gold,  having  been  placed 
upon  his  feet,  the  Archbishop  poured  from  the 
ampulla  the  holy  oil  upon  his  head,  breast,  and 
shoulders,  and  annointed  him  king.  The  cap  of 
state  was  then  put  upon  his  head,  and  being  clothed 
hi  the  kingly  robes,  he  received  the  sword  of  justice ; 
and  two  noble  earls,  bending  on  their  knees,  buckled  on 
the  golden  spurs.  Thus  regally  arrayed,  Richard  was 
led  to  the  altar  where  the  crown  was  placed,  and  the 
Archbishop,  admonishing  him  in  the  name  of  God,  not 
to  touch  it  unless  he  was  prepared  solemnly  to  abide 
by  his  oath,  Richard  repeated  his  sacred  pledge,  and 
took  the  heavy  crown  from  off  the  altar,  and  handed 
it  to  the  prelate,  who  placed  it  upon  the  royal  head. 
Richard  was  thus  formally  crowned  King  of  England. 
The  royal  sceptre  was  then  assumed,  and  he  seated 
himself  upon  the  throne.  The  celebration  of  mass, 
with  all  the  imposing  ceremonial  of  the  Church, 
closed  the  impressive  scene. 

This  great  occasion  led  to  one  of  the  most  dis- 
graceful events  in  English  history.  A  banquet  was 
held,  after  the  coronation,  in  the  choir  of  Westmin- 
ster Qiurch,  at  which  all  the  nobility  were  present  as 
guests,  and  citizens  of  wealth  and  repute,  as  servants. 
Some  of  the  worthiest  burgesses  of  London  served 
as  butlers,  who  in  these  days,  are  the  drawers  of 
corks  and  the  washers  of  bottles,  but  in  the  time  of 
King   Richard  had  to  do  with  flagons  and  goblets 


48  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

instead,  while  the  same  respectable  class  of  the  city 
of  Winchester  served  up  the  meats.  Times  have 
changed  since  then,  and  the  worth  of  honest  industry 
is  weighed  in  a  somewhat  juster  scale.  The  builders 
up  of  a  nation's  prosperity,  the  merchants,  and  traders, 
and  handicraftsmen,  are  not  so  ready  to  bow  their 
necks  in  servile  subjection  to  the  destroyers,  the 
ambitious  kings,  warriors,  and  fighting-men.  The 
latter  are  only  too  happy,  now-a-days,  if  the  former 
will  graciously  let  them  have  the  wherewithal  to  eat, 
and  drink,  and  fight,  without  asking  for  what  they 
would  fail  to  get — menial  service,  too. 

The  disreputable  scene  to  which  we  have  referred, 
was  not,  however,  this  degradation  of  honest  citizens, 
but  something  worse,  still ;  a  disgraceful  riot,  which 
led  to  one  of  the  most  dreadful  massacres  ever 
recorded. 

The  Jews,  in  the  time  of  King  Eichard,  were  cer- 
tainly the  most  useful  citizens,  and  undoubtedly  the 
greatest  benefactors  of  England.  The  trade,  and  con- 
sequent wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  country,  were 
almost  entirely  indebted  to  the  persecuted  race  of 
Israel.  Nearly  all  the  comforts,  and  certainly  all  the 
ornaments  and  luxuries  of  life,  which  increase  so 
much  its  charms,  and  entice  it  on  by  their  attractions 
to  the  refining  influence  of  civilization,  were  brought 
into  the  country  by  the  enterprise  of  the  Jews.  They 
of  course,  as  they  were  the  only  commercial  portion 
of  ii.e  people,  accumulated  great  wealth,  as   the\ 


Jew  Money-Lenders.  49 

deserved  to  do ;  for  in  many  respects  they  made  the 
best  use  of  it,  by  increasing  the  resources  and  adding 
to  the  wealth  and  prosperity  of  the  land. 

The  war-making,  spendthrift  kings,  and  the  reckless, 
dare-devil,  swaggering  barons,  who  were  often  out  of 
pocket  by  their  prodigal  waste,  were  obliged  to  have 
frequent  recourse  to  the  Jews  for  loans.  These  needy 
nobles  were  more  than  usually  urgent  in  their  de- 
mands, and  doubtless  less  than  usually  punctual  in 
their  payments  at  this  time,  in  consequence  of  the  fre- 
quent wars  and  the  contemplated  Crusades.  Money 
was,  as  our  brokers  would  say,  in  brisk  demand,  hard 
to  get ;  and  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  commerce, 
which  are  as  absolute  as  those  of  nature,  money 
became  dear.  The  Jew  lenders,  therefore,  finding 
the  commodity  in  which  they  were  the  only  dealers 
in  demand  and  scarce,  naturally  and  properly  raised 
its  price.  This  angered  the  fierce  barons,  who  knew 
only  how  to  spend  money  and  get  it  by  stealing ;  for 
such  great  souls  were  too  ignorant  to  know  how  it 
was  obtained  by  honest  industry,  and  too  lofty  to 
learn.  The  kings  and  barons  of  those  days  preferred 
foul  means  to  fair,  and  so  they  persecuted  the  indus- 
trious, money-making  Jews.  As  for  the  religious 
belief  of  these  people,  although  the  so-called  Christian 
nobles  of  those  days  pretended  to  have  it  in  awful 
abhorrence,  we  do  not  think  they  cared  much  whether 
the  Jews  rejected  Christ  or  not ;  for  they,  themselves, 
were  not  given  over-much  to  following  his  precepts 


50  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Philip  of  France,  on  ascending  his  throne,  illus- 
trated the  old  fable  of  the  goose  and  golden  egg  over 
again,  and  banished,  like  a  fool,  all  the  Jews  from 
his  kingdom,  and,  robber-like,  confiscated  all  their 
property,  and  released  the  Christians  from  their  debts 
to  their  Jewish  creditors.  Richard  of  England,  it 
was  supposed,  would  be  guilty  of  the  same  folly  and 
wickedness,  as  he  wanted  money  as  badly  as  his 
kingly  brother,  and  was  not  too  good  or  too  wise  to 
get  it  in  the  same  way. 

The  people  were  probably  more  honest  in  their 
prejudices  against  the  Jews  than  the  nobles.  The 
latter,  allied  with  the  Church,  did  all  in  their  power 
to  foster  these  prejudices  for  their  own  unworthy 
purposes.  The  priests  taught  that  the  Hebrew  nation 
was  suffering  under  the  curse  of  God,  and  that  it  was 
the  duty  of  a  Christian  people,  in  obedience  to  the 
will  of  their  heavenly  Father,  to  carry  out  that 
dispensation.  No  religious  duty  was  more  faithfully 
kept.  An  infidel  Turk  might  be  saved,  and  all  his 
Turkish  sins  washed  away  by  baptism ;  but  an  unbe- 
lieving Jew  had  a  taint  in  his  nature,  that  all  the 
waters  of  the  ocean  could  not  cleanse.  The  poor 
persecuted  Jew  hardly  dared  to  show  himself  in  the 
light  of  day,  but  was  obliged  to  lie  obscurely  hid- 
den until  night,  when  he  skulked  about  under  the 
shadow  of  the  darkness.  The  people  shrunk  from  a 
Jew  as  from  a  pestilence,  and  feared  that  the  mere 
touch  of  his  garment  would  contaminate  them. 


Generosity  of  Jews,  51 

At  the  coronation,  in  accordance  with  this  ill-will 
and  prejudice  against  the  Jews,  all  of  the  despised 
race  were  expressly  commanded  by  proclamation  to 
keep  far  away  from  Westminster,  lest  their  presence 
should  pollute  so  holy  and  august  a  ceremony.  The 
coronation,  however,  being  over,  and  the  banquet 
having  begun,  the  Jews  thought  that  the  interdict 
against  their  presence  remained  no  longer  in  force, 
and  accordingly  sent  a  deputation  composed  of  their 
most  venerable  patriarchs,  loaded  with  costly  presents, 
to  render  to  King  Richard  their  homage,  and  pro- 
pitiate him  with  their  gifts.  The  king  graciously 
admitted  the  venerable  Jews  and  their  magnificent 
offerings  to  his  presence,  and  he  and  his  courtiers 
welcomed  the  latter  with  very  unmistakable  feelings 
of  joy.  The  former,  however,  did  not  fare  so  well. 
A  disturbance  having  risen  on  the  outside  of  the  hall, 
where  a  Jew,  in  trying  to  make  his  way  through  the 
crowd  collected  at  the  gates,  was  struck  by  a  Christian 
and  pursued  with  a  hue  and  cry,  like  some  miserable 
vermin,  the  noise  reached  the  interior  of  the  hall 
while  the  Jewish  deputation  were  displaying  their  rich 
vessels  of  gold,  and  caskets  of  diamonds  and  precious 
jewels,  before  the  eager  king.  The  courtiers  and 
attendants,  after  securing  the  rich  offerings,  reechoed 
the  outside  cry  of  persecution,  and  cursing  and 
reviling  the.  generous  Jews,  thrust  them  violently  out 
of  the  hall,  and  handed  them  over  to  the  rage  of  the 
furious  multitude  without.    They  were  cruelly  beaten 


52  The  Lion-Hearted  King, 

with  staves  and  bats,  and  driven  with  stones  to  their 
houses. 

The  king  not  doing  any  tiling  to  check  this  cruel 
violence,  the  people  collected  in  large  numbers 
from  all  quarters  of  the  city,  and  raged  through  the 
streets,  killing  every  Jew  they  met.  Then  this 
infuriated  mob  attacked  the  houses  in  the  Jewish 
quarter  of  London,  and  where  they  found  resistance, 
set  fire  to  the  dwellings,  burning  all  the  inmates,  old 
men  and  women,  fathers,  mothers,  and  helpless  child- 
ren. In  some  instances,  where  they  succeeded  in 
entering  the  houses,  all  the  Jews  they  found  were 
seized  and  hurled  alive  from  the  windows  into  the 
fires  they  had  kindled  on  the  outside.  Their  blood- 
thirsty ferocity  made  no  nice  distinctions,  but  the 
aged,  the  sick,  and  the  bed-ridden  were  all  murdered. 
Richard  at  last  became  aware  of  the  necessity  of 
doing  something  toward  allaying  the  excitement  of 
the  people,  and  accordingly  sent  the  Lord  Justiciary 
and  other  officers,  with  an  armed  force,  to  endeavor 
to  put  down  the  riot.  But  these  efforts  proved  vain. 
The  authority  of  Richard's  officers  was  despised,  and 
they  themselves  obliged  to  fly  for  their  lives,  and 
barely  succeeded  in  getting  back  to  Westminster 
Hall,  where  the  banquet  still  continued.  At  night 
the  havoc  went  on,  the  burning  of  the  houses  of  the 
Jews,  which  threatened  a  general  conflagration  of  the 
city,  lighting  the  mob  in  their  mad  work  of  pillage 
and  murder.     Fresh  tortures  were  applied,  by  their 


Massacre  of  Jews.  53 

merciless  persecutors,  to  the  wretched  Israelites. 
They  not  only  plundered  and  ransacked  the  houses 
to  vent  their  fury  upon  the  helpless  occupants,  but 
received  those  that  were  hunted  from  their  burning 
or  ransacked  dwellings,  in  their  attempt  to  escape 
through  the  doors  and  windows,  upon  the  points  of 
their  spears,  bill-hooks,  and  swords,  with  which  every 
outlet  bristled,  so  that  not  a  single  Jew  should  escape. 
These  fearful  outrages  lasted  from  twelve  o'clock 
one  day,  until  two  in  the  afternoon  of  the  next,  when 
the  mob  seemed  for  awhile  glutted  with  blood,  and 
ceased  only  from  fatigue  and  satiety. 

King  Richard  hung  three  men,  not,  as  he  publicly 
proclaimed,  because  they  had  murdered  the  Jews, 
but  because  they  had  burned  the  houses  of  Christians, 
which  were  accidentally  destroyed  by  the  fire  set  to 
the  Jewish  quarter  extending  to  them.  Issuing  a 
proclamation,  in  which  he  stated  that  he  received  the 
Jews  under  his  special  protection  and  that  no  one 
should  harm  them,  was  all  that  King  Richard  thought 
the  crimes  of  his  people  and  the  danger  of  the  emer- 
gency required. 

The  effect  of  this  ill-advised  and  criminal  leniency 
soon  showed  itself  in  the  extension  of  the  fanatical 
rage  of  the  Christians  to  other  parts  of  England.  In 
Lynn,  Stamford,  Norwich,  and  Lincoln,  the  Jews 
were  plundered  and  massacred  with  the  same  ingenu- 
ity of  cruelty  as  in   London.      In   York,  however 


54  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

these  persecutions  reached  an  intensity  unexampled 
elsewhere. 

York,  with  the  exception  of  London,  contained 
more  Jews  than  any  other  city  in  England,  and  these 
were  reputed  to  be  possessed  of  enormous  wealth. 
Their  great  riches  were  the  lure  which  tempted 
the  attack  upon  them,  which  was  a  deliberately 
arranged  plan,  and  not  the  act  of  popular  frenzy. 
Some  of  the  nobles  and  officials  of  the  city  and  neigh- 
borhood, upon  whose  friendship  the  Jew  traders  had 
calculated  in  consequence  of  their  frequent  relations 
of  trade  and  money-lending  with  them,  were  princi- 
pally concerned  in  the  persecution  at  York,  which  led 
to  one  of  the  bloodiest  events  in  history. 

It  was  a  dark  and  stormy  night  when  the  people 
of  York  were  startled  from  sleep  by  the  cry  that  the 
city  was  on  fire.  The  streets  were  soon  thronged  by 
the  alarmed  population,  and  flames  were  seen  to 
issue  from  various  parts  of  the  city.  While  the 
citizens  were  engaged  in  putting  out  the  fire  and  sav- 
ing the  lives  and  property  of  the  sufferers,  the  house 
of  one  of  the  richest  Jew  inhabitants  of  York,  of  the 
name  of  Benedict,  was  ruthlessly  assailed,  every 
member  of  the  family,  man,  woman,  and  child  mur- 
dered, and  the  house  plundered  of  its  rich  treasures. 
The  murderers  then  set  fire  to  the  house  and  fled 
without  opposition.  This  Benedict  was  one  of  the 
representatives  of  his  sect,  who  was  deputed  to  wait 


Massacre  at  York.  55 

upon  King  Richard  at  the  banquet,  and  was,  with  his 
associates,  thrust  out  and  exposed  to  the  cruelty  of 
the  savage  London  mob.  While  in  the  hands  of 
these  cruel  people,  poor  Benedict  in  his  fright  had 
cried  out  that  he  abjured  the  Jewish  faith  and  was 
ready  to  become  a  Christian.  A  respite  from  death 
was  granted  him  in  consequence,  and  on  the  next  day, 
when  brought  before  the  bishops,  he  refused  to  be  bap- 
tized, honestly  confessing  that  he  remained  firm  in 
the  Jewish  faith,  and  that  the  only  object  of  his 
recantation  on  the  day  before,  was  to  escape  the 
cruelty  of  the  populace.  He  became  subsequently  a 
victim  of  the  fury  of  the  mob  at  Northampton.  It  was 
in  consequence  of  his  death,  by  which  his  house  and 
the  wealth  he  had  left  behind  remained  unprotected, 
that  those  who  had  contrived  the  plundering  of  the 
Jews  of  York  were  induced  to  assault,  rob,  and 
murder  the  household  of  Benedict  and  burn  his 
residence  to  the  ground.. 

The  Jews  of  York  became  alarmed  for  their 
safety,  and  so,  with  the  consent  of  the  Governor, 
removed  to  his  castle  with  their  wives,  children, 
and  most  of  their  wealth.  The  robbers  soon 
renewed  their  attacks,  their  first  success  had  only 
sharpened  their  appetite  for  plunder  and  their  thirst 
for  blood.  The  house  of  a  Jew,  of  the  name  of 
Jocenus,  the  partner  of  the  unfortunate  Benedict, 
was  now  broken  into  and  plundered.  A  number  of 
Jews  had  sought  refuge   in  that   place,  as   it   was 


56  The  Lion-Hearted  King 

strongly  guarded,  and  these  poor  creatures  thought 
themselves  sufficiently  secure  without  joining  their 
brethren  in  the  castle.  The  darkness  of  the  night  was 
again  chosen  for  the  assault  of  these  desperate  robbers, 
who,  under  the  name  of  Christians,  committed  acts 
unequalled  by  the  most  ferocious  heathen  savages. 
The  house  was  plundered,  its  inmates  tortured  and 
murdered,  and  the  building  burned  to  the  ground. 

On   the   next   day  all    disguise   was  thrown    off, 
and   the  Jewish  quarter  became  a   scene    of  indis- 
criminate robbery  and  slaughter.     Life  was  offered 
to  those  who  would  be  baptized,  but  the  property  of 
all,  without  exception,  was  carried  off.     Most  chose 
the   alternative   of   death,   and  were   slain  without 
mercy.     The  Jews  in  the  castle  now  became  doubt- 
ful of  their  safety,  notwithstanding  the  strength  of 
the  refuge  to  which  they  had  fled.     The  Governor 
having  gone  to  the  city  on  business,  the  Jews,  sus- 
picious of  the  sincerity  of  his  protection,  determined 
to  become  masters  of  the  castle,  and  accordingly 
secured  the  sentinels,  and  barred  the  gates  against  his 
return.     The  Governor,  then  fortifying  himself  with 
the  sheriff's  authority,  attacked  the  castle.     Crowds 
of  people  came  thronging  in  from  the  country,  until 
they  swelled  to  a  great  multitude.     A  fanatic  rage 
took  possession   of  this   uncontrollable   mass,   and 
although  the  sheriff,  fearing  the  excesses  of  the  mob, 
revoked  his  order,  it  proved  too  late,  and  the  excited 
people  would  listen  to  no  terms,  and  were  resolved 


The  Jewish  Patriarch.  57 

to  grant  no  quarter.  The  castle  was  then  assaulted, 
and  without  effect,  for  several  days,  as  the  Jews 
defended  themselves  with  the  desperation  of  men  at 
bay,  with  their  lives  depending  on  the  issue.  The 
mob  were,  however,  not  to  be  thwarted  in  their 
hellish  purpose.  Among  their  leaders,  it  is  recorded 
that  there  were  some  priests,  who,  forgetful  of  the 
lessons  of  their  Saviour,  were  urging  on  the  infuri- 
ated savages  to  their  work  of  cruelty  and  death.  A 
hermit  was  one  of  the  principal  instigators,  and  his 
fanatic  appeals  to  the  passions  of  the  mob  stirred  them 
to  frenzy.  This  man,  however,  soon  met  with  his 
deserts,  for  he  was  killed  by  a  stone  thrown  from  the 
castle. 

The  Jews  finding  at  last  that  their  resistance  was 
unavailing,  were  driven  to  desperation,  and  one  of 
their  most  venerable  patriarchs,  a  man  learned  in  the 
law  and  of  great  authority  among  his  race,  advised 
that  they  should  destroy  themselves,  as  it  were  bet- 
ter to  die  by  their  own  hands  than  to  suffer  a  linger- 
ing death  in  torture  at  the  less  merciful  hands  of  their 
Christian  persecutors.  The  venerable  patriarch, 
whose  words  were  eagerly  caught,  as  if  he  spoke 
with  the  inspired  voice  of  a  sacred  prophet  of  old, 
stood  up  among  his  people,  his  long,  scant  hairs  of 
gray  and  his  white  beard  adding  the  respect  of  age 
to  the  authority  of  office,  and  solemnly  and  with  a 
tone  of  resolute  and  yet  pious  resignation,  uttered  the 
following  words:  "Men  of  Israel,  God  bids  us  die 


58  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

for  the  law,  and  our  glorious  ancestors  have  so  diea 
in  all  ages.  If  we  fall  into  the  hands  of  these  our 
enemies,  not  merely  death,  but  cruel  torture  awaits  us. 
Let  us  then  return  to  our  Almighty  Creator  the  life 
which  he  gave ;  let  us  die  willingly  and  devoutly  by 
our  own  hands."  Some  assented  at  once,  and  the 
work  of  self-slaughter  commenced.  These  first  hav- 
ing proposed  to  burn  the  castle,  which  was  resisted, 
killed  their  wives  and  children,  and  after  having  made 
way  with  all  they  could  of  their  wealth,  burning  their 
rich  robes  and  costly  shawls  of  Cashmere,  and  bury- 
ing their  jewels  and  plate  of  silver  and  gold,  sacri- 
ficed themselves.  Those  who  remained  waited  in  an 
agony  of  anxiety  for  the  coming  day,  and  gathering 
.  at  the  first  light  of  dawn  upon  the  wall,  stretched  out 
their  arms  in  prayers  for  mercy,  and  besought  their 
persecutors  to  spare  their  lives.  Obtaining  a  promise 
of  safety,  the  gates  were  opened,  and  the  infuriated 
mob  rushed  in  and  massacred  every  Jew  in  the 
castle. 

King  Richard  was  sorely  vexed  at  the  conduct  of 
his  Christian  subjects,  for  he  had  pledged  his  protec- 
tion to  the  Jews ;  but  yielding  to  the  prejudices  of 
the  times,  he  did  not  punish  the  crimes  of  the 
murderers  as  they  merited.  He  contented  himself 
with  suspending  the  governor  and  the  sheriff  from 
their  offices,  and  with  his  usual  eagerness  for  money, 
let  off  the  principal  inhabitants  who  were  responsible 
for  the  r<  bbery  and  murder  of  the  Jews  of  York, 


Richard  prepares  for  the  Crusade.  59 

on  the  payment  of  a  round  sum  as  a  penalty  for  their 
offense. 

During  the  life-time  of  his  father,  King  Henry, 
Richard's  martial  spirit  had  been  stirred  by  the  elo- 
quent appeals  of  the  patriarch  Heraclius,  who  headed 
a  deputation  sent  in  1185  by  Queen  Sybilla,  to  crave 
the  assistance  of  France  and  England,  in  the  crisis  of 
Jerusalem,  which  was  about  falling  again  into  the 
hands  of  the  Turks.  Richard  had  pledged  himself  to 
the  cause  of  the  holy  city.  Now  that  he  was  king, 
he  was  ready  to  fulfill  his  pledge,  and  his  whole  soul 
was  absorbed  in  the  resolute  purpose  of  a  crusade 
against  the  Turk.  Since  the  visit  of  the  patriarch 
Heraclius  to  England,  the  city  of  Jerusalem  had  been 
taken  by  Saladin,  of  whom  we  shall  hear  more  in  the 
sequel,  at  the  head  of  his  fierce  Saracens.  The  holy 
cross  was  now  in  the  polluting  hands  of  the  infidel, 
and  the  sepulchre  of  Christ  wrested  from  the  devout 
protection  of  the  Christian  soldier,  and  abandoned  to 
the  mockery  of  the  unbelieving  Turk. 

Richard  was  not  superior  to  the  superstition  of  his 
age,  and  undoubtedly  yielded  with  enthusiastic  devo- 
tion to  its  influence ;  but  it  was  his  martial  spirit, 
rather  than  his  religious  feeling,  which  prompted  his 
crusade  to  the  East.  He  was  fired  with  his  love 
of  the  excitement  of  battle,  and  his  ambitious  ardor 
for  martial  renown.  Palestine  was  to  him  a  great 
battle-field,  where  he  burned  to  rival  the  warlike 
deeds  of  former  Christian  princes.     Whether  or  not 


60  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

he  felt  the  religious  feelings  which  consecrated  the 
wars  against  the  Saracen,  and  made  them  holy  in  the 
superstition  of  his  age,  he  was  conscious  how  greatly 
the  summits  of  the  earthly  glory  of  battle  were 
brightened  by  the  rays  of  heaven,  which  were  thought 
to  descend  upon  them.  He  was  resolved  to  scale 
those  summits,  whose  celestial  effulgence  paled  all 
other  objects  of  aspiring  ambition. 

Richard  now  strove  unceasingly  to  prepare  for  an 
immediate  crusade.  In  carrying  on  a  holy  war, 
money  was  as  indispensable  as  in  any  other  kind,  and 
however  spiritually-minded  the  Christian  soldier,  he 
must  have  his  pay  and  rations.  As  the  expedition  to 
the  East  was  to  be  on  a  great  scale,  it  was  necessary 
that  the  preparations  should  be  proportionate ;  and 
accordingly  the  king  was  hard  put  to  it  to  raise  the 
necessary  funds.  The  hundred  thousand  marks  left 
in  the  treasury  by  King  Henry  were  by  no  means 
sufficient,  so  King  Richard  resorted  to  the  usual  royal 
expedients  for  raising  the  wind.  In  the  first  place, 
there  were  his  subjects,  upon  whom  he  levied  a  tax, 
the  tenth  of  all  they  had,  and  which,  being  called  after 
the  infidel  Saracen,  the  Saladin  tithe,  and  destined 
for  a  religious  war,  was,  as  far  as  can  be  learned, 
readily  submitted  to  and  promptly  paid  up. 

There  was,  also,  an  ambitious  ecclesiastic  of  the 
name  of  Hugh  de  Pudsey,  Bishop  of  Durham,  who 
had  plenty  of  ready  money,  and  was  free  to  spend  it 
when  he  could  find  a  good  bargain,  who  bought  from 


The  Royal  Auction,  61 

the  king  the  temporalities  of  his  see,  the  life-rent  of 
the  earldom  of  Northumberland,  and  the  honor  of  Sud- 
berg  for  ever,  all  in  a  lump.  "  Am  I  not,"  exclaimed 
the  hearty  king,  "  a  cunning  alchemist,  thus  to  trans- 
mute an  old  bishop  into  a  fine  new  earl1?"  The  Bishop 
liking  his  first  bargain  so  well,  made  another  purchase 
of  the  king,  who  was  ready  to  sell  every  thing,  even 
London,  if  he  could  find  a  bidder,  as  he  said.  The 
prelate,  this  time,  paid  down  a  thousand  silver  marks, 
and  got,  in  return,  the  office  of  chief  justiciary,  and 
the  permission  to  remain  at  home,  where  his  lordship 
might  be  secure  from  bodily  harm,  although  he  had 
previously  vowed  to  join  the  crusade. 

King  Richard  knocked  down  at  auction  public  lands, 
towns,  royal  castles,  fortresses,  offices  and  dignities, 
bishoprics  and  abbacies,  and  whatever  might  find  a 
bidder,  and  bring  a  mark  to  his  treasury,  which  was  no 
sooner  filled  than  emptied  by  his  extravagant  expendi- 
ture for  the  coming  Holy  "War.  He  got  the  round  sum 
of  twenty  thousand  marks  from  the  king  of  Scotland, 
for  which  he  released  that  monarch  from  all  the  obli- 
gations that  had  been  extorted  from  him  by  the  hard 
righting  of  King  Henry.  He  sold  also  his  affection  to 
his  half-brother,  Geoffrey,  whom  he  took  to  his  heart 
for  three  thousand  marks.  This  was  the  son  of  the 
late  king  by  the  fair  Rosamond,  whose  pious  devotion 
to  his  father  in  his  last  moments  we  have  recorded. 
He,  in  accordance  with  King  Henry's  wish,  had  been 
elevated  to  the  see  of  York,  as  Archbishop. 


62  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Eichard  had  not  lingered,  but  Philip  of  France, 
who  was  bent  on  accompanying  the  English  monarch 
to  the  Holy  Land,  had  been  before  him  in  his  prepara- 
tions, and  being  impatient,  sent  messengers  to  Eng- 
land to  remind  Eichard  that  Easter  was  approaching, 
the  time  appointed  for  their  departure  on  the  Crusade. 
Eichard,  surrounded  by  his  earls,  barons,  and  knights, 
who  had  taken  the  cross,  went  out  to  meet  the  mes- 
sengers, and  when  gathered  all  together,  the  French- 
men swore  by  the  soul  of  King  Philip,  and  the 
Englishmen  by  the  soul  of  King  Eichard,  that  the 
respective  monar'chs  would  be  ready  at  the  time 
appointed. 

Eichard  now  had  fairly  drained  England  to  its 
last  mark,  and  so  he  made  his  arrangements  for  the 
government  of  the  kingdom,  preparatory  to  taking 
his  departure.  Hugh  de  Pudsey,  the  Bishop  of  Dur- 
ham, in  accordance  with  his  bargain  with  the  king, 
was  made  regent,  and  William  de  Mandeville,  earl 
of  Albemarle,  was  joined  with  him  in  the  administra- 
tion of  the  government.  The  latter,  however,  soon 
took  his  departure,  and  left  the  whole  authority  in 
the  hands  of  the  Bishop,  who,  in  his  turn,  was  obliged 
to  yield  up  his  office  to  the  greater  capacity  of  Long- 
champ,  bishop  of  Ely  and  Chancellor  of  England. 

■  The  king  now  left  for  Normandy.  While  in  this 
part  of  his  dominions,  Eichard  sent  for  Queen 
Eleanor,  who  went  to  him,  accompanied  by  Alice, 
the  betrothed  of  Eichard,  and  in  accordance  with  his 


The  English  and  French  Alliance.  63 

constant  affection  for  his  mother,  made  over  to  her 
several  rich  estates,  in  addition  to  those  she  already 
possessed,  and  decreed  that  she  should  be  consulted, 
in  the  absence  of  her  son,  in  affairs  of  state. 

In  the  presence  of  a  great  assembly  of  Peers,  the 
king  exacted  from  his  brother  John,  and  his  half- 
brother  Geoffrey,  archbishop  of  York,  a  solemn  oath 
that  they  would  not  set  foot  in  England  for  three 
years  from  the  time  of  his  departure.  He  however 
revoked,  at  a  subsequent  period,  this  restriction  as 
fir  as  it  concerned  his  brother.  John,  although  dis- 
appointed at  losing  the  regency,  was,  in  other  respects, 
most  generously  treated,  and  had  numerous  earldoms 
in  Normandy  and  England  bestowed  upon  him,  those 
in  the  latter  country  forming  no  less  than  a  third 
part  of  the  whole  kingdom. 

An  intimate  alliance  was  formed  between  Philip 
and  Richard,  such  as  has  had  no  parallel  in  the  his- 
tory of  Prance  and  England  until  our  time,  between 
Louis  Napoleon  and  Queen  Victoria,  with  this  differ- 
ence, that  as  the  past  was  against,  the  present  is  in 
favor  of  the  Turk.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  issue 
of  the  existing  friendly  ties  between  the  two  countries 
may  be  more  fortunate  than  that  of  the  former.  The 
two  king';  solemnly  bound  themselves  on  their  oaths, 
to  aid  each  other  under  all  circumstances,  to  preserve 
the  peace  of  both  countries,  mutually  to  protect 
each  other's  rights  against  foreign  attack,  and  that 
in  regard  to  the  expedition  they  were  undertaking,  in 


64  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

case  of  the  death  of  either,  the  surviving  king  should 
become  possessed  of  the  treasure  of  the  other  and 
the  command  of  his  forces. 

The  setting-out  of  the  expedition  was  postponed 
from  Easter  day  until  midsummer,  in  consequence  of 
the  death  of  the  queen  of  France,  King  Philip's 
consort. 

The  plain  of  Vezelai,  in  the  summer  of  the  year 
1190,  was  the  scene  of  one  of  the  most  imposing 
military  spectacles  of  former  times.  The  armed 
hosts  of  Richard  and  Philip,  which  amounted  in  com- 
bination to  more  than  one  hundred  thousand,  were 
gathered  together  in  full  array,  with  the  two  kings 
in  splendid  suits  of  armor  at  their  head,  vieing  with 
each  other  in  the  proud  display  of  all  that  was 
knightly  and  martial  in  their  kingdom.  The  French 
and  English  knights  rode  about  the  plain,  showing 
off,  in  friendly  rivalry,  their  chivalrous  bearing,  and 
the  marshalled  thousands  of  England  and  France 
shared  the  proud  spirit  of  their  leaders,  while  an  eager 
multitude,  thronging  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
looked  on  with  admiring  enthusiasm.  Shouts  of 
uncontrolled  delight  rent  the  air,  and  the  auspicious 
scene  was  hailed  as  the  assured  triumph,  in  the 
future,  of  the  cross  of  Christ,  and  the  certain  perdi- 
tion of  the  infidel  Turk.  After  an  encampment  of 
two  days  on  the  plain  of  Vezelai,  the  armies  marched 
together  to  Lyons,  where  they  parted.  Philip  went 
to  Genoa,  where  his  fleet  of  ships  were  in  readiness, 


Tar  and  Feathers.  65 

and  King  Richard  led  his  army  to  Marseilles.  The 
English  fleet,  which  was  composed  of  over  a  hundred 
vessels,  that  had  set  sail  for  this  port,  had  met  with 
terrible  storms,  which  had  dispersed  the  ships  and 
delayed  them  so  much  that  they  were  five  months 
in  reaching  Marseilles.  At  the  present  day,  the 
same  voyage,  made  for  a  similar  purpose,  the  convey* 
ance  of  English  troops,  has  been  accomplished,  by 
the  expedition  of  steam,  in  less  than  a  fortnight. 

There  was  a  curious  ordinance,  among  others, 
established  by  King  Richard  for  the  regulation  of  his 
ships,  before  they  sailed  from  England.  It  ran  thus : 
Any  man  convicted  of  theft,  or  "pickerie,"  was  to 
have  his  head  shaved,  and  hot  pitch  poured  upon  his 
bare  pate,  and  over  the  pitch,  the  feathers  of  some 
pillow  or  cushion  were  to  be  shaken,  as  a  mark 
whereby  he  may  be  known  as  a  thief.  This  is  the 
first  record  we  have  of  tarring  and  feathering,  which 
was  so  favorite  an  application  in  punishment  of  the 
sin  of  toryism  during  revolutionary  times,  and  which 
continues  to  be,  particularly  in  western  and  southern 
districts  of  our  country,  a  cherished  mode  of  marking 
an  offender,  where  often  the  punishment  is  more 
obvious  than  the  offense. 

The  English  fleet  met  with  some  strange  adven- 
tures in  the  course  of  its  long  voyage.  The  ships,  in 
the  Bay  of  Biscay,  encountered  a  severe  storm,  which 
dispersed  them.  One  was  only  saved  from  founder 
ing  by  the  good  luck  of  having  some  hundred  pious 


66  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

men  on  board,  who,  according  to  the  old  chroniclers, 
called,  in  the  emergency,  upon  the  canonized  Becket 
in  heaven.  St.  Thomas,  obedient  to  orders, 
turned  out  of  his  celestial  bunk  at  once,  in  full  rig, 
with  crozier  and  pall,  bringing  with  him  his  mess- 
mates, the  Saxon  king,  Edmund,  martyr  and  saint, 
and  the  sainted  Nicholas,  (not  old  Nick,)  the  good 
friend  and  patron  of  Jack.  They  all  mustered  on 
deck,  and,  lending  a  hand  with  a  hearty  good  will,  got 
every  thing  snug,  taut,  and  trim  again,  and  the  good 
ship  proceeded  on  her  course. 

In  spite  of  this  aid  from  above,  the  vessel,  however, 
after  coasting  along  the  shores  of  Spain  and  Portugal, 
was  found  to  be  not  very  sea-worthy,  and  was  forced 
to  put  in  at  Sylves,  on  the  Portuguese  coast,  to  the 
south.  The  people  of  that  town  happened  just  then 
to  be  in  great  alarm,  in  consequence  of  a  threatened 
attack  of  Africans  from  the  opposite  shore.  The  Por- 
tuguese earnestly  besought  the  Englishmen  to  lend 
them  their  aid,  telling  them  that  the  Africans,  being 
Mohammedans,  were  infidel  enough  to  satisfy  any 
Christian  crusader.  The  Englishmen,  after  their  long 
voyage  and  salt  diet,  were  eager  enough  to  flesh  their 
swords,  and  were  as  thirsty  for  fresh  blood  as  so  many 
caged  tigers  suddenly  let  loose.  The  inhabitants  of 
Sylves  persuaded  the  crusaders  to-  break  up  their 
ship  and  use  the  timbers  as  a  barricade  for  their  town, 
on  the  promise  that  they  should  have  another  vessel 
quite  as  large,  when  they  were  ready  to  continue  their 


The  Crusaders  at  Lisbon.  6? 

voyage.  Nine  other  of  the  fleet,  by  good  luck,  hap 
pened  to  put  into  the  Tagus,  a  river  in  Portugal,  and 
the  king  of  that  country  begged  the  men  aboard  also 
to  join  him  in  a  war  against  the  Mohammedans.. 
They  consented ;  and  with  their  aid,  the  English  force, 
amounting  to  some  five  hundred,  the  Africans  were 
completely  routed. 

The  king  then  took  it  into  his  head  to  go 
down  to  Lisbon,  where  he  had  heard  of  the  arrival 
of  another  portion  of  Richard's  fleet,  making,  in 
all,  some  sixty-three  ships  at  anchor  in  the  Tagus. 
His  majesty  was  somewhat  startled  at  the  host  of 
fierce  Englishmen  he  beheld.  These,  pious  Cru- 
saders as  they  were,  turned  out  terrible  roysterers 
ashore,  and  kept  up  all  kinds  of  wild  rioting  and 
plunder,  helping  themselves  out  of  the  bloated  pig- 
skins of  wine,  and  becoming  drunk  and  disorderly, 
knocking  down  the  citizens  right  and  left,  and  making 
free  with  the  pretty  Portuguese  girls  of  Lisbon.  The 
king,  who  was  a  good-natured  monarch,  and  was  truly 
grateful  for  the  aid  he  had  received  from  these 
unruly  Englishmen,  contented  himself,  at  first,  with 
an  appeal  to  the  English  leaders  of  the  expedition. 
Fresh  riots,  however,  after  a  momentary  repose, 
broke  out,  and  the  Lisbon  citizens  were  obliged,  in 
defense  of  their  lives,  wives,  and  property,  to  take 
up  arms,  and  much  English  blood  was  spilt  in  conse- 
quence. The  king  then  ordered  the  gates  of  the  city 
to  be  shut,  and  all  the  Crusaders  were  locked  up  until 


68  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

their  ships  in  the  Tagus,  which  now  amounted  to  the 
large  number  of  one  hundred  and  six,  were  ready  to 
start,  when  they  were  let  out  and  sailed  for  Mar- 
seilles. 


CHAPTER     III. 

RICHARD'S  impetuous  temper  was  sorely  irri- 
tated by  his  disappointment  in  not  finding  his 
fleet  at  Marseilles.  The  king,  unable  to  check  his 
impatience,  hired  twenty  galleys  and  ten  great  barks 
at  that  city,  and  putting  to  sea  from  this  French 
port  in  the  Mediterranean,  with  a  part  of  his  forces, 
sailed  for  Sicily.  In  the  course  of  his  voyage  along 
the  coast,  he  stopped  at  Genoa,  where  he  overtook 
the  French  king,  and  thence  sailed  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Arno,  and  visited  the  fine  city  of  Pisa  in  Italy. 
His  vessel  requiring  repairs,  he  anchored  her  at 
Ostium,  in  the  Tiber,  near  its  mouth,  but  although 
within  a  few  miles  of  Rome,  did  not  visit  the  Eternal 
City.  The  bishop  of  Ostium  came  down  to  visit 
King  Richard,  and  while  offering  him  a  welcome  to 
the  patrimony  of  St.  Peter,  took  occasion  to  remind 
the  royal  debtor  of  a  small  account  the  Pope  of  Rome 
held  in  his  holy  ledger  against  his  name.  Richard 
did  not  like  this  ill-timed  dunning,  and  instead  of 
liquidating  his  debt  paid  off  the  episcopal  bill- 
collector  with  abuse  instead,  and  turned  a  cold  shoul- 
der upon  Rome,  and  would  not  call  upon  the  Pope. 
The  royal  ship  having  been  refitted,  the  king  again 


70  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

embarked  and  sailed  to  Naples.  He  landed  in  this 
Italian  city,  and  sent  on  his  vessels  to  Salerno,  pre- 
ferring to  proceed,  himself,  as  far  as  the  Straits  of 
Messina,  by  land.  King  Richard's  restless  spirit 
soon  tired  of  the  confinement  of  ship-board,  and,  stal- 
wart hero  as  he  was,  his  comfort  was  said  to  have 
been  very  materially  disturbed  by  that  indisposition 
which  is  common  to  heroes  as  "well  as  to  more  hum- 
ble landsmen ;  in  a  word,  the  king  did  not  escape  sea- 
sickness. At  Naples,  King  Richard  piously  visited 
the  sanctuary  of  St.  Januarius,  but  although  we  learn 
he  told  his  prayers  in  that  holy  place,  it  is  not 
stated  whether  his  eyes  were  gladdened  by  a  sight 
of  the  wondrous  miracle  of  the  solidification  and  lique- 
faction of  the  saint's  blood. 

Naples  gave  great  delight  to  the  king,  and,  in 
spite  of  his  impetuosity  and  haste,  he  lingered 
there  several  days,  finding  much  enjoyment  in  the 
society  of  the  renowned  Italian  beauties  of  that 
city.  He  tore  himself  away  at  last,  however,  from 
the  delights  of  Naples,  and  mounting  his  horse, 
spurred  on  his  way  to  Salerno.  Here  he  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  ships  he  had  hired  at  Marseilles, 
and  which  he  had  sent  on  from  Naples.  In  the  mean 
time  the  king,  who  took  a  deep  interest  in  all  that 
pertained  to  learning  and  the  arts,  visited  the  famous 
medical  school  of  Salerno,  and  found  himself,  for  he 
also  was  a  troubadour,  quite  at  home  among  the 
scholars  and  poets  of  that  cultivated  city. 


Arrival  at  Messina.  71 

His  vessels  having  arrived,  Richard,  giving  his 
orders  for  the  continuance  of  their  voyage,  took  to 
horse  again.  His  ride  was  a  hard  and  dangerous 
one,  but  the  bold  king  stopped  at  no  obstacle  and 
feared  no  risk.  There  were  no  roads  in  that  day, 
and  as  it  was  during  the  rainy  season,  the  mountain 
streams  were  swollen,  which  obliged  the  king  and  his 
single  attendant  often  to  swim  their  horses  at  the 
imminent  risk  of  their  lives. 

As  he  was  passing  through  a  village,  a  fine  hawk 
in  the  possession  of  a  poor  peasant  caught  the 
sportsman's  eye  of  Richard,  so,  without  more  ado, 
he  went  into  the  poor  man's  hut  and  seized  the  bird. 
Its  owner,  who  was  a  bold  Calabrian,  ran  after  the 
royal  thief  and  demanded  his  own.  The  king  refused 
the  just  demand,  and  would  not  unloose  the  hawk 
from  where  it  was  perched  on  his  wrist.  The  coun- 
trymen of  the  wronged  man  took  up  his  quarrel,  and 
began  a  fierce  attack  with  sticks,  stones,  and  the  long 
Calabrian  knives,  upon  the  king,  who,  drawing  his 
sword,  struck  one  of  the  fierce  fellows  with  the  flat 
of  it  such  a  blow  that  it  broke  in  his  hand.  Richard 
was  now  forced  to  put  his  horse  to  his  mettle,  and  fly 
fdr  refuge  to  a  neighboring  priory,  or  else  the  bold 
king  would  have  left  his  bones  in  Calabria.  He  made 
but  a  short  stay  in  that  neighborhood,  and  hurried  on 
until  he  reached  the  Straits  of  Messina,  which  his  fleet 
crossing  from  the  Island  carried  him  over  to  Sicily. 

The  king  sailed  into  the  Sicilian  harbor  of  Messina 


72  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

in  full  glory.  The  wind  was  fair,  and,  although  not 
high,  sufficiently  strong  to  fill  the  unnumbered  white 
clouds  of  sails  which  floated  majestically  before  it, 
and  to  raise  the  myriad  banners  high  and  onward. 
The  course  was  due  west,  and,  as  the  morning  sun 
rose  behind  the  immense  fleet,  it  tinged  the  spreading 
canopy  of  canvas  with  its  golden  glories,  and  bright- 
ened the  red  cross  of  the  English  standards  with  the 
glow  of  fire.  The  king,  in  full  armor,  pressed  eagerly 
forward  on  the  bow  of  the  vessel,  and  raising  his 
visor,  darted  his  keen  glances  through  the  veil  of 
mist  which  was  fast  rising  before  the  coming  sun. 
Amid  the  ringing  of  armor,  the  shouts  of  the  English 
warriors,  the  neighing  of  the  war-horses,  and  the 
clangor  of  the  martial  horns  and  trumpets,  the  great 
fleet  anchored  in  the  port,  and  the  impatient  Richard, 
his  brave  knights,  and  doughty  soldiers  hurried  to  the 
land. 

The  king  of  England  had  a  good  cause  of  quarrel 
with  Tancred,  who,  at  the  time  of  his  arrival  in 
Messina,  was  ruling  Sicily.  Richard's  sister,  Joan, 
was  the  widowed  queen  of  the  late  King  William,  who, 
leaving  no  issue,  had  bequeathed  the  crown  to  his 
aunt  Constance.  This  princess  had  married  Henry 
VI.,  the  reigning  emperor  of  Germany,  but  her  natural 
brother  Tancred,  had  usurped  the  rights  that  belonged 
to  her  and  to  Joan,  and,  by  the  force  of  arms,  had 
established  himself  upon  the  throne.  King  Richard's 
widowed  sister,  Joan,  opposed  this  usurpation,  and 


The  King^s  Vindication  of  his  Sister.         73 

was,  in  consequence,  imprisoned  by  Tancred.  .Rich- 
ard's first  act,  like  a  good  brother,  was  to  insist  upon 
his  sister's  release,  which  was  granted  without  a  mo- 
ment of  hesitation,  by  the  usurper,  Tancred,  who  sent 
her  from  Palerno,  escorted  by  his  royal  galleys,  to 
her  brother  at  Messina.  This  did  not  satisfy,  how- 
ever, bold  Richard,  who  also  demanded  that  all  the 
magnificent  dower,  the  territories,  the  cities,  the 
towns,  the  castles,  the  rich  monasteries  and  their 
abounding  treasuries  and  wealth,  should  be  instantly 
given  up  as  well.  Richard  would  not  await  the 
delay  of  negotiations,  which  Tancred  proposed  and 
expressed  his  willingness  to  enter  upon,  but  began  a 
foray,  at  once,  by  crossing  the  Straits  of  Messina, 
with  a  part  of  his  army,  and  pouncing  upon  the  town 
and  castle  of  Bagnara,  on  the  Calabrian  side,  left 
his  sister  there  safely  housed  and  garrisoned.  He 
now  returned  to  Messina,  where,  on  the  sea-shore  in 
the  neighborhood,  a  monastery  had  caught  his  military 
eye  as  a  very  suitable  place  for  his  own  purposes,  as 
it  flanked  on  one  side  his  army,  which  was  encamped 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  city.  He  accordingly  drove 
out  the  monks  and  appropriated  it  for  his  own  use,  as 
quarters  for  his  army  and  a  depository  for  stores. 

The  English  soldiers  soon  became  unruly,  and 
indulged  in  all  kinds  of  riot  and  licentiousness.  The 
citizens  of  Messina  were  naturally  anxious  to  preserve 
their  property  and  the  honor  of  their  wives  and 
daughters,  and  when  they  found  that  neither  one  noi 


74  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  other  was  safj  from  the  attack  of  these  lascivious 
marauders,  they  rose  against  the  English  in  the  city, 
and  having  killed  several,  shut  the  gates  against 
the  English  army.  This  was  more  than  the  unruly 
soldiers,  who  were  not  accustomed  to  yield  to  any 
resistance,  however  just,  could  endure;  and  they 
therefore  rushed  fiercely  to  the  walls  and  would  have 
scaled  them,  taken  Messina  by  storm,  and  massacred 
the  inhabitants.  King  Richard,  however,  hastily 
mounted  his  horse,  and  riding  in  their  midst  and 
laying  about,  right  and  left,  with  his  truncheon, 
ordered  them  to  desist,  and  the  storm  was  quelled. 
The  disturbance  led  to  a  parley.  Philip,  the  king 
of  France,  whose  quarters  were  inside  the  town, 
taking  with  him  some  of  the  principal  inhabitants  of 
Messina,  went  out  on  the  following  morning  to  hold 
a  conference  with  Richard,  who,  with  his  army,  was 
encamped  in  the  suburbs.  While  they  were  delib- 
erating, a  troop  of  Sicilians  were  descried  gathered 
on  a  hill  above,  which  commanded  the  English  camp, 
and  threatened  apparently  an  attack.  One  of  the 
Norman  knights  was  wounded,  in  fact,  by  this  invad- 
ing force,  and  Richard,  his  quick  eye  seeing  the 
danger,  and  his  hot  blood  stirred  by  the  audacious 
attempt,  rushed  out  in  the  midst  of  the  solemn 
deliberation,  and,  calling  his  men  to  arms,  led  them 
up  the  hill  side.  This  sudden  movement  of  the  Eng- 
lish was  irresistible;  the  Sicilian  multitude  were 
driven  helter-skelter  from  their  position,  and  fled  pre- 


Quarrel  with  Philip.  *th 

cipitately  down  a  declivity  of  the  hill,  and  took 
refuge,  as  they  could,  in  a  confused  crowd  within  the 
walls  of  the  city.  The  English  followed  closely  at 
their  heels,  and  some  of  the  more  precipitate  and 
forward  pressed  into  the  town  along  with  the  flying 
people.  The  gates  were  then  closed  and  the  citizens 
of  Messina  prepared  to  defend  themselves.  Richard, 
however,  soon  brought  his  whole  force  to  bear,  and, 
scaling  the  walls,  took  the  city  by  storm,  and,  leaving 
five  of  his  bravest  knights  and  twenty  men-at-arms, 
dead  in  his  bloody  path,  took  possession  of  Messina, 
and  raised  the  English  standard  upon  its  loftiest 
tower. 

King  Philip,  who,  for  some  time,  had  exhibited 
marks  of  an  envious  spirit,  in  consequence  of  the 
more  aspiring  character  and  daring  courage  of  his 
ally,  King  Richard,  now  openly  showed  his  rage  and 
envy.  He  denounced  the  conduct  of  the  English  in 
storming  Messina,  as  an  invasion  of  his  rights,  as  a 
feudal  superior  to  the  English  king,  and  as  an  out- 
rageous act  of  resistance  to  his  will.  To  a  demand 
made  by  the  French  king,  that  the  English  standard 
should  be  lowered  from  where  Richard  had  planted 
it,  and  that  the  French  standard  should  be  put  in  its 
place,  the  latter  answered :  "  Does  he  think  that  I  will 
yield  my  conquests  and  the  glory  of  the  victory,  to 
one  who  is  not  even  a  sluggish  friend,  but  a  perjured 
and  vexatious  enemy  ?" 

Concord  was  at  last  established  between  the  two 


76  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

kings,  through  the  influence  of  mutual  friends,  who 
saw  in  this  quarrel  a  serious  blow  to  the  great  cause 
of  the  crusade.  By  a  compromise,  King  Richard 
consented  to  haul  down  the  English  standard,  and 
commit  the  city  to  the  control  of  the  Hospitalers  and 
Knight  Templars,  until  the  difficulty  with  Tancred 
might  be  settled  to  the  satisfaction  of  King  Richard. 
There  was  a  show  of  friendship,  rather  than  the  sub- 
stance, established  between  the  two  allied  but  rival 
monarchs.  They  renewed  their  former  treaties,  and 
conjointly  established  some  new  regulations  for  the 
improvement  of  the  morals  of  the  pious  crusaders. 
These  men,  in  spite  of  the  holy  pilgrimage  they  had 
entered  upon,  were  by  no  means  free  of  some  of  the 
failings  of  men  engaged  in  more  worldly  occupations. 
The  Crusaders,  among  other  fashionable  vices,  were 
much  given  to  gambling.  Laws  were  promulgated 
for  checking  this  prevalent  practice.  The  kings  were 
determined  to  enjoy  a  monopoly  of  the  vice,  and 
accordingly  enacted  that  none  should  play  without 
their  command,  and  when  the  nobles  were  graciously 
permitted  to  do  so  by  their  royal  masters,  twenty 
shillings  was  the  largest  sum  allowed  to  be  lost  in  the 
course  of  a  day  and  night,  and  if  they  transgressed 
these  rules,  they  forfeited  four  times  the  amount. 
Archbishops,  bishops,  knights,  priests,  servants,  and 
sailors  were  graduated,  in  amount  of  stake  and  fine, 
according  to  their  rank  and  station.  If  the  sailors 
were  caught  gambling,  they  were  ducked  in  the  sea 


Tancred  comes  to  Terms.  77 

for  three  successive  times,  and  servants  and  other 
humble  varlets  were  whipped  round  the  camp. 

King  Richard's  busy  energies  were  soon  again  at 
work.  He  seized  the  houses,  galleys,  and  any  thing 
else  he  could  get  hold  of,  the  property  of  some  of 
the  great  nobles  of  the  country,  who,  not  caring  to 
remain  at  the  beck  and  will  of  the  imperious  Eichard, 
had  left  Messina.  The  monastery  that  the  king  had 
captured,  he  fortified,  and  dug  round  it  a  deep  ditch, 
while  he  built  a  fort  upon  the  top  of  the  hill  which 
commanded  the  English  camp.  These  preparations 
gave  great  umbrage  to  the  king  of  France,  but  they 
brought  Tancred  to  terms  with  exceeding  great  dis- 
patch, who  thought,  probably,  that  there  was  no  use 
parleying  with  a  man  whose  bold  acts  spoke  so  much 
more  promptly  and  to .  the  purpose  than  words. 
Tancred  paid  over  to  the  English  king,  in  lieu  of  all 
demands,  forty  thousand  golden  ounces,  an  immense 
sum  in  those  days,  one  half  of  which  was  to  satisfy 
the  claim  in  behalf  of  Richard's  sister,  Joan,  and 
the  other  as  a  sort  of  dower,  paid  in  advance,  on 
account  of  the  infant  daughter  of  Tancred,  who  was 
betrothed,  on  this  occasion,  to  the  nephew  of  the  Eng- 
lish King,  Prince  Arthur,  who  was  the  presumptive 
heir  to  the  English  throne. 

Richard,  being  well  supplied  with  funds,  kept  up 
great  state  at  his  new  castle  into  which  he  had  con- 
verted the  monastery  and  taken  up  his  quarters. 
He  kept  open  house  and  gave  a  free  welcome  to  all 


78  The  Lion-Hearted  King 

comers;  it  made  no  difference  whether  his  guests 
were  French  or  English,  or,  in  fact,  from  what  part  of 
the  world  they  came,  the  same  lavish  hospitality  was 
extended  to  all.  ]fts  prodigal  generosity  made  him 
hosts  of  friends,  and  he  became  almost  as  popular  in 
the  French  army  as  in  his  own.  He  spent  in  a 
month,  more  than  his  father  did  in  a  whole  year.  On 
Christmas  day  there  was  a  great  banquet  given  in 
Richard's  castle,  to  which  he  invited  all  the  knights 
and  gentlemen  of  both  armies,  and,  after  having 
feasted  them  sumptuously,  gave  to  each,  by  the  way 
of  dessert,  a  round  sum  of  money. 

King  Richard  did  not,  however,  waste  all  his  time 
and  his  substance  in  riotous  living.  He  busied  him- 
self in  making  preparations  for  his  coming  warfare 
in  the  Holy  Land.  He  had  his  ships  repaired ;  he 
cut  down  timber  in  the  forests  of  Calabria,  and  con- 
structed catapults  and  all  kinds  of  warlike  instru- 
ments, with  which  he  designed  to  batter  down  the 
walls  and  castles  of  the  Saracen. 

Some  how  or  other,  whether  it  was  the  hard  work 
or  the  harder  living,  Richard  became  melancholy, 
and  took  a  serious  turn.  He  gathered  together  all 
the  bishops  and  priests  he  could  muster  in  Messina, 
in  a  chapel,  and  falling  down  on  his  knees,  in  their 
presence,  confessed  his  sins,  and  professed  to  be  ex- 
ceedingly penitent  of  the  profligacy  of  his  past  career. 
The  king  being  now  in  a  religious  mood,  bethought 
him  of  one  Joachim,  a  monk,  who  had  great  repute 


Visit  to  Mi.  Etna.  79 

in  Calabria  and  the  country  round  aa  a  prophet  and 
theological  disputant.  Richard  was  desirous  of  see- 
ing this  famous  character,  and  having  a  set-to  on 
points  of  religious  doctrine  with  this  formidable  theo- 
logian. He  accordingly  sent  for  him  to  visit  Mes- 
sina, and  after  Joachim,  soon  after  his  arrival,  had 
had  his  own  way,  for  a  long  hour  or  so,  on  his  favor- 
ite topic  of  the  Apocalypse,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  was  presumptuous  enough  to  assert  (evidently 
squinting  at  the  Pope)  that  Antichrist  was  actually 
at  that  present  time  in  Rome,  the  bishops  and  learned 
clerks  took  up  the  cudgels  and  roundly  rated  the 
prophet  for  his  presumption,  and  disputed,  with  great 
warmth  of  temper  and  much  vigor  of  lung,  every 
doctrinal  point  he  had  raised.  We  do  not  learn  who 
had  the  better  of  the  argument,  but  the  king  is  re- 
ported to  have  set  down  Joachim  as  a  vain  babbler. 
The  Crusaders  were  obliged  to  pass  the  whole 
winter  in  Messina,  in  consequence  of  the  weather, 
which  prevented  the  fleets  from  putting  to  sea  with 
safety.  King  Richard's  impatient  spirit  was  much 
chafed  by  the  delay,  and  he  sought  all  kinds  of  di- 
version for  relief  to  his  restless  temper.  On  one 
occasion  he  liastily  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away 
alone  to  Mount  Etna.  This  volcanic  mountain  had 
been  lately  in  a  state  of  active  eruption,  and  was 
still  burning.  Richard  forced  his  horse  as  far  up  to 
the  edge  of  the  volcano  as  the  frightened  animal  would 
go,  and  contemplated  the  convulsive  throes  of  nature 


80  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

in  harmony  with  his  own  fitful  temper.  In  the  dark 
clouds  of  smoke  which  rolled  out  from  the  summit 
of  the  burning  mountain,  and  darkened  the  fair  face 
of  the  land  of  the  olive  and  the  grape  for  miles 
around,  relieved  by  occasional  outbursts  of  vivid 
flame — and  in  the  torrent  of  molten  lava,  which  flowed 
down  impetuously,  overwhelming  and  blasting  all  it 
touched,  the  king  beheld  a  scene  in  sympathy  with 
his  own  disturbed  heart,  which  had  its  convulsive 
throes  of  temper,  its  dark,  impending  clouds,  and  its 
flaming  outbursts  of  passion ;  while  Richard's  impetu- 
ous course  through  the  world,  not  unlike  the  river  of 
fire  which  poured  down  the  mountain-steep,  deluged 
with  ruin  and  death  all  that  it  overtook  in  its  resist- 
less flood. 

From  Mount  Etna  the  king,  agitated  with  the 
tumultuous  scene  he  had  just  witnessed,  pushed  on 
at  full  speed,  spurring  his  horse  to  the  height  of  his 
mettle,  and  reached  Catania,  the  Sicilian  city,  not  far 
from  the  southern  base  of  the  volcano.  Here  he 
was  met  by  Tancred.  The  kings,  who  now  saw  each 
other  for  the  first  time,  embraced  with  much  warmth, 
and  proceeded  at  once  to  the  cathedral  church,  where 
they  both  kneeled  down  before  the  shrine  of  St. 
Agatha,  and  offered  up  their  prayers  together.  They 
soon  became  sworn  friends.  Richard  was  as  hearty 
in  his  friendships  as  in  his  enmities,  and  although 
capricious  in  the  selection  of  his  friends,  he  gave  his 
whole  heart  where  he  found  a  breast  to  receive  it. 


A  Traitor  Discovered.  81 

Tancred  had  had  so  far  more  occasion  to  fear  than  to 
love  the  English  hero,  but  was  doubtless  glad  enough 
of  this  opportunity  to  enroll  himself  on  the  side  of 
the  friends  of  the  formidable  king — the  only  security 
for  those  who  came  within  the  reach  of  his  mighty 
arm.  Presents  were  exchanged  between  them  ; 
Tancred  gave  Richard  a  costly  ring,  and  Richard 
gave  Tancred  the  enchanted  sword  Calibrun,  once 
wielded  by  King  Arthur  of  famous  memory.  The 
latter  also,  which  was  more  to  the  English  king's 
purpose,  contributed  to  the  crusade  four  large  ships 
and  fifteen  galleys.  In  the  course  of  the  ride  on  the 
way  to  Messina,  in  which  Tancred  accompanied  his 
newly-made  friend  for  many  miles,  the  latter  handed 
a  letter  to  Richard,  which  he  pretended  to  have  re- 
ceived from  Philip  of  France,  and  in  which  the  French 
king  denounced  the  king  of  England  as  a  traitor,  who 
intended  to  break  his  word  to  Tancred.  The  letter, 
moreover,  concluded  with  an  offer,  on  the  part  of  his 
majesty  of  France,  to  assist  the  Sicilian  king  in  driv- 
ing the  English  from  Sicily.  The  lion-hearted  king 
was  fiercely  wroth  at  the  baseness,  and  swore  by  all 
the  saints  in  the  calendar  that  he  would  have  venge- 
anee  for  this  slander.  Recovering  himself,  however, 
he  appeared  to  doubt  that  Philip  could  have  been 
guilty  ofsobasean  act;  but  Tancred  assuring  him 
that  there  could  be  no  doubt,  Richard  rode  on  gloom, 
ily  and  in  silence. 

On  Tancred's  departure,  the  English  king,  swear- 
G 


82  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

ing  that  he  would  have  revenge,  hurried  on  to  Mes- 
sina. When  he  arrived  at  the  camp  and  met  Philip, 
he  fiercely  charged  him  with  the  slanderous  letter. 
The  king  of  France,  however,  stoutly  denied  the 
charge,  and  threw  back  upon  Richard  the  accusa- 
tion that  the  letter  was  forged,  as  a  pretext  for  a 
quarrel,  and  that  the  English  king  hoped  in  this  way 
to  break  his  vows  to  Philip's  sister,  Alice.  Richard, 
in  fact,  had  no  love  for  this  fair  lady,  and  although  in 
his  father's  life-time  he  had  made  so  much  ado  about 
his  rights  to  her  hand,  he  acted  merely  for  selfish 
purposes,  that  he  might  have  cause  of  quarrel  with 
King  Henry,  the  wicked  results  of  which  have  been 
already  told  in  the  course  of  this  history. 

The  English  king  had  in  truth  fallen  in  love  with 
a  beautiful  daughter  of  the  king  of  Navarre,  of  the 
name  of  Berengaria.  Richard,  in  the  course  of  a 
visit  to  her  father's  dominions,  had  become  despe- 
rately enamored  of  the  charming  princess,  who  re- 
turned his  passion  with  equal  ardor.  This  occurred 
two  years  before  the  death  of  King  Henry,  so  Richard, 
while  he  was  rising  in  rebellion  against  his  parent, 
under  the  pretense  of  his  claim  for  Alice,  was  the 
whole  time  desperately  in  love  with  another.  As 
soon  as  Richard  became  king,  he  sent  his  mother, 
Eleanor,  to  ask  the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Berengaria, 
who  did  not  hesitate  to  accept  the  offer.  This 
princess  had  no  dower  to  bestow,  and  Richard  asked 
for  no  political  advantages  from  the  father,  as  a  con- 


Berengaria  Arrives.  83 

dition  of  taking  his  daughter  ;  so  we  have  reason  to 
believe  that  this  was  an  example  of  true  love,  which 
royal  marriages  seldom  present.  The  maiden  at 
once  consented  to  follow  her  betrothed  to  the  Holy 
Land  ;  and  so,  placing  herself  under  the  care  of  Queen 
Eleanor,  she  joyfully  set  out  to  meet  her  lover. 
The  two  dames  then  travelled  on  together  until  they 
reached  the  castle  of  Eleanor's  sister,  Joan,  a  short 
distance  from  Messina.  They  remained  there  until 
the  departure  of  King  Philip  from  Sicily.  In  the 
mean  time  a  strong  affection  sprung  up  between  the 
sisters-in-law.  An  old  chronicler  says :  "  Dame 
Joan  held  her  sister,  Berengaria,  very  dear,  and 
the  two  ladies  lived  together  like  two  birds  in  one 
cage." 

This  love  between  the  beautiful  Berengaria  and  the 
ardent  Richard  was  undoubtedly  the  great  cause  why 
Alice  was  rejected  by  the  English  king,  who  now 
flatly  refused,  to  the  face  of- Philip,  to  have  any  thing 
to  do  with  his  sister,  adding,  moreover,  that  he  had 
good  reason  for  doubting  her  virtue,  and  openly 
charging  that  she  had  criminal  relations  with  the  late 
King  Henry.  Philip  was  at  first  exceeding  wroth  at 
this  charge  against  his  sister's  honor,  and  angrily  ex- 
claimed :  "  Let  the  English  king  beware,  for  I  certify 
him  if  he  leave  her  and  take  another,  I  will  be  his 
implacable  enemy  for  ever."  Richard,  however, 
persisted,  and  Philip  was  fain  to  let  off  the  English 
king,  who  promised  to  give  up  the  princess's  dower, 


84  The  Lion-IIearted  King. 

and  pay  over  two  thousand  marks  sterling,  per  an- 
num, for  five  years,  as  a  sort  of  make-weight  for  poor 
Alice's  honor.  This  was  strange  conduct  on  the  part 
of  Philip  ;  but  it  is  supposed  that  there  was  some 
truth  in  the  charges  against  the  princess,  and  it  was 
probably  deemed  more  prudent  not  to  insist  too 
much  upon  the  character  of  Alice,  who  consoled  her- 
self, when  cast  off  by  a  king,  by  taking  up  with  a 
noble,  William,  Count  of  Pathieu,  whom  she  married. 
It  is  to  be  hoped  she  made  amends  for  living  as  a 
bad  princess,  by  conducting  herself  virtuously  as  a 
good  countess. 

The  winter  was  now  over,  and  the  French  and 
English  prepared  to  set  out  for  the  Holy  Land.  The 
former  sailed  first,  in  the  month  of  March  of  the  year 
1191.  Such  were  the  unkind  feelings  between  the 
two  monarchs  that  they  preferred  to  go  separately. 
As  soon  as  Philip  had  left,  Richard  sent  for  his 
mother  and  the  beautiful  Berengaria.  He  was,  how- 
ever, so  bent  upon  embarking  for  the  Holy  Land,  that 
with  all  his  impatience  to  make  the  charming  princess 
his  bride,  he  postponed  his  happiness,  and  devoted 
all  his  enei'gies  to  the  busy  preparations  for  depar- 
ture. Being  finally  ready,  he  dispatched  his  mother, 
Eleanor,  who  set  out  on  her  return  to  England. 
This  lady  had  already  made  the  "  great  passage,"  as 
it  was  termed  in  those  days,  in  the  company  of  her 
first  husband,  Louis  of  France;  and  although  she 
had  now  reached  a  good  old  age,  it  was  her  recollec- 


Sets  Sail  from  Sicily.  85 

tion  of  the  trials  and  difficulties  of  the  voyage  to  the 
Holy  Land,  and  not  her  want  of  vigor,  which  in- 
duced her  to  return  home.  The  parting  between 
Richard  and  his  mother,  who  mutually  loved  with 
great  affection,  was  very  tender. 

Richard  having  collected  a  great  fleet,  consisting 
of  one  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  fifty-two  galleys,  ten 
vessels  laden  with  stores,  and  numerous  small  craft, 
took  his  departure,  after  having  demolished  the  old 
monastery,  which  had  been  his  castle,  and  all  the 
fortifications  he  had  constructed.  Berengaria,  under 
the  matronly  care  of  his  sister  Joan,  accompanied 
him,  but  was  delicately  provided  for  in  a  ship  apart 
from  himself,  one  of  the  finest  and  largest  vessels  in 
the  fleet  being  expressly  fitted  up  for  the  use  of  the 
princesses,  while  the  king  took  up  his  quarters  on 
board  of  another  ship. 

The  fleet  moved  gallantly  through  the  Straits  of 
Messina,  carried  rapidly  along  by  the  swift  current. 
Crowds  of  Sicilians  gathered  on  the  shores  to  behold 
the  ships  as  they  passed,  and  great  was  their  admira- 
tion of  the  noble  sight  of  the  gallant  fleet,  proudly 
bearing  the  king  of  England,  his  best  beloved,  his 
chivalry  and  all  his  hosts,  to  defy  the  tempests  and 
the  battle. 

A  fair  wind  bore  the  fleet  prosperously  on  its 
course  for  some  days.  The  ships  kept  company 
together,  during  this  time ;  but  a  great  storm  arising 
when  near  the  island  of  Candia,  the  ships  were  sorely 


86  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

tossed  and  dispersed  in  all  directions.  Several  of  the 
fleet  got  safely  into  the  island  of  Rhodes,  among 
which  was  the  ship  which  l}ore  the  king.  At  this 
place  Eichard  was  taken  sick,  which  detained  him  for 
some  days,  but  in  the  mean  time  he  sent  some  of  his 
fastest  sailers  in  search  of  -the  missing  vessels. 
Among  these  was  the  ship  in  which  his  betrothed 
Berengaria  and  his  sister  Joan  had  taken  passage. 
The  king  was  in  a  state  of  great  anxiety  for  the 
uncertain  fate  of  those  whom  he  loved  so  deeply. 
The  storm  had  been  severe,  and,  although  there  was 
no  vessel  in  the  fleet  better  manned  or  appointed  in 
every  respect,  he  still,  having  been  tempest-tossed 
himself,  and  almost  wrecked,  felt  that  there  was  good 
reason  for  alarm.  Moreover,  in  those  times,  there 
was  less  confidence  in  the  staunchness  of  a  vessel 
and  in  the  skill  of  the  sailor  than  now-a-days,  and 
the  sea  and  the  storm  had  ten-fold  more  horrors,  and, 
in  fact,  dangers,  in  consequence  of  the  unskillful  ship- 
building and  navigation. 

One  of  the  fast  vessels  that  had  been  sent  to  look 
after  the  missing  ships  soon  returned,  bringing  Rich- 
ard a  doleful  account  of  disaster.  Three  of  the  finest 
ships  of  the  fleet  had  gone  ashore  at  Cyprus,  while 
the  vessel  which  conveyed  the  beautiful  Berengaria 
and  the  princess  Joan  was  lying  off  Limesol,  a  port 
on  the  southern  edge  of  that  island,  in  a  damaged 
condition,  having  suffered  severely  in  the  storm. 
Many  of  the  soldiers  on  board  the  three  vessels  that 


Wrecked  at  Cyprus.  8? 

had  been  wrecked  on  the  coast  of  Cyprus,  had  been 
drowned  in  attempting  to  reach  the  land,  while  the 
rest,  who  succeeded  in  getting  ashore  in  safety,  were 
received  by  the  inhabitants  with  a  great  show  of 
friendship.  They  were,  however,  imprisoned  under 
the  pretext  that  it  was  necessary  that  they  should 
await  the  orders  of  the  emperor  of  the  country  before 
they  could  be  allowed  to  go  at  large.  They  were 
confined  in  a  neighboring  castle,  stripped  of  their 
armor,  and  kept  closely  guarded.  Another  ship 
belonging  to  the  fleet  happened  to  anchor  off  the 
island  at  this  time,  and  the  commander,  knowing  that 
his  countrymen  must  be  in  need,  sent  to  them  a  sup- 
ply of  provisions,  of  which  he  had  an  abundance  on 
board  of  his  ship,  which  had  not  suffered  in  the  least 
by  the  storm.  These  supplies,  on  being  landed,  were 
immediately  taken  possession  of  by  the  authorities 
of  Cyprus,  and  appropriated  to  their  own  use,  while 
the  Englishmen  who  had  been  wrecked  were  still 
kept  in  close  confinement,  harshly  treated,  and 
deprived  of  the  necessaries  of  life.  The  prisoners, 
driven  to  desperation,  were  resolved  upon  making  an 
attempt  to  save  themselves.  They  knew  if  they  re- 
mained where  they  were,  death  was  certain,  and, 
whatever  might  be  the  result  of  their  determination, 
no  change  could  be  worse  than  their  present  desperate 
condition.  The  soldiers,  therefore,  made  a  bold  effort 
to  free  themselves,  and  succeeding  in  tearing  down 
the  gates  of  the  castle  and  killing  their  guards,  issued 


88  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

out.  The  inhabitants  of  Cyprus  mustered  in  large 
numbers  and  opposed  their  approach.  Though  only- 
armed  with  a  few  bows  and  rapiers,  sufficient  merely 
for  a  small  portion  of  them,  these  brave  Englishmen 
made  such  an  onslaught  on  their  opponents,  that  the 
throng  of  Cyprusites  were  kept  off,  and  the  soldiers 
succeeded  in  making  their  way  to  the  harbor  of  Lime- 
sol.  Here,  they  found  some  of  the  crews  and  soldiers 
of  other  vessels  that  had  put  in  there,  in  similiar 
straits  with  themselves,  and  engaged  in  a  desperate 
scuffle  with  the  inhabitants.  Joining  their  forces,  the 
Englishmen  gained  a  complete  victory,  securing  for 
themselves,  for  the  present,  a  position  near  the  town. 

As  for  the  vessel  on  board  which  the  princesses 
were,  it  was  deemed  safer  that  she  should  ride  at 
anchor,  although  severely  damaged  by  the  storm 
and  requiring  repairs.  Richard's  sister  and  bride 
were  therefore  still  on  board,  within  a  short  distance 
of  the  land,  but  did  not  venture  ashore,  fearing  to  put 
themselves  at  the  mercy  of  the  people  of  Cyprus. 

A  usurper  of  the  name  of  Isaac,  who  grandilo- 
quently styled  himself  emperor,  was,  at  that  time, 
ruler  of  the  island  of  Cyprus.  His  people  were  rudo 
barbarians,  cruel,  deceitful,  and  cowardly,  and  their 
emperor  was  no  better.  He  and  his  subjects  were 
Greeks,  and  Greek,  in  those  days,  as  now,  was  deserv- 
edly a  name  of  reproach.  The  Crusaders  held  them 
especially  in  contempt;  for,  notwithstanding  their 
profession  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  their  neighbor 


The  Crafty  Isaac.  89 

hood  to  the  Holy  Land,  they  refused  to  join  in  its 
defense.  All  other  people  despised  these  rude  bar- 
barians of  Cyprus  for  their  dastardly  character  and 
their  frequent  acts  of  piracy,  plunder,  and  inhospital- 
ity.  The  mariner  avoided  their  shores  with  fear  and 
trembling,  lest,  being  wrecked,  he  should  be  plun- 
dered and  mercilessly  destroyed  by  these  wicked 
islanders. 

The  Emperor  Isaac,  who  was  a  crafty  man,  in  the 
course  of  a  day  or  so  made  his  appearance,  and  had 
a  long  talk  with  the  shipwrecked  Englishmen.  He 
offered  all  sorts  of  excuses  for  his  subjects,  on  the 
ground  of  their  ignorance,  and  made  the  fairest 
promises  for  the  future.  He  then  invited  the  English 
to  the  hospitalities  of  his  kingdom,  gave  them  per- 
mission to  make  themselves  at  home  in  Limesol,  and 
supplied  them  with  provisions  and  liberal  draughts 
of  wine,  in  which  that  country  abounded.  These 
offers  were  gladly  accepted  and  the  crafty  Isaac  taken 
at  his  word,  who  no  sooner  had  got  them  in  his 
clutches,  and  supplied  them  well  with  wine,  of  which 
Richard's  men  were  over-fond,  than  he  took  them 
captive  and  put  them  in  prison.  The  fair  words  of 
Isaac  were,  however,  not  so  persuasive  in  their  effect 
upon  the  princesses,  whom  this  wicked  usurper  would 
have  been  glad  to  have  got  in  his  power.  They 
resisted  all  the  kind  invitations  and  generous  pro- 
mises of  this  crafty  personage,  and  preferred  all  the 
discomforts  of  their  ship  to  the  tender  mercies  of 


90  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

their  would-be  host.  They,  however,  thought  it  safer 
to  be  very  civil,  and  accordingly  gave  out  that  it  was 
their  intention,  shortly,  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
imperial  hospitality.  Their  real  purpose,  however, 
was  to  conciliate  the  emperor  of  Cyprus,  that  they 
might  be  permitted  to  remain  in  security  where  they 
were  until  the  bold  Richard  should  come  to  the 
rescue. 


CHAPTER     IV. 

KING  Richard  fretted  grievously  on  his  sick  bed 
at  Rhodes,  when  he  heard  of  the  cruel  treatment 
of  his  brave  followers  at  Cyprus,  and  the  danger  of 
his  bride  and  sister.  He  swore  that  he  would  be 
revenged  upon  the  insolent  and  deceitful  Isaac,  and, 
although  not  recovered  from  his  illness,  he  sprung 
from  his  bed  and  ordered  his  ships  to  be  made  ready, 
that  he  might  on  the  instant,  hasten  to  the  rescue  of 
his  beloved,  and  his  valiant  Crusaders.  The  king 
embarked  and  pushed  on  with  all  speed  to  Cyprus. 
On  his  arrival  he  hastened  to  assure  himself  of  the 
safety  of  the  fair  Berengaria,  and  his  sister  Joan,  who 
were  still  on  board  their  vessel  in  the  harbor,  and 
who  welcomed  him  with  great  demonstrations  of 
love  and  confidence,  as  their  best  friend  and  surest 
protector. 

Richard  then  promptly  dispatched  a  messenger  to 
the  Emperor  Isaac,  summoning  him  to  deliver  up  at 
once  all  the  English,  and  whatsoever  arms  and  pro- 
perty he  had  taken  from  them.  The  emperor  did 
not  seem  to  know  with  whom  he  had  to  deal,  and  was 
presumptuous  enough  to  declare,  in  answer,  that  he 
would  keep  all  that  he  had  got,  that  the  English  were 


92  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

intruders  upon  his  land,  and  that  he  would  neither 
deliver  them  up  nor  their  property,  and,  moreover, 
he  added,  that  if  the  king  of  England,  himself,  should 
have  the  audacity  to  land,  he  should  be  treated  like 
his  countrymen  ;  for  he  neither  feared  nor  cared  for 
any  of  the  Crusaders,  great  or  small.  This  was  bold 
language,  such  as  Eichard  would  brook  from  no  man 
or  sovereign  in  the  world ;  and  accordingly  he 
ordered  his  boats  to  be  got  ready,  and,  filling  them 
with  armed  men,  his  bowmen  of  England,  the  most 
skillful  in  Europe,  and  his  Norman  knights  and 
warriors,  he  pushed  on  to  the  shore,  determined  to 
punish  the  insolent  Isaac  and  the  barbarians  of  Cyprus. 
The  emperor,  preparing  to  meet  the  onset,  had 
brought  out  the  full  array  of  all  his  forces.  Thou- 
sands of  archers  were  to  be  seen  crowding  in  thick 
rank  and  file  the  walls  and  the  towers,  while  the  Cyprus 
cavalry  manoeuvred  on  the  shore,  and  a  fleet  of  boats, 
manned  with  soldiers,  sailed  out  into  the  harbor  to 
oppose  King  Eichard's  approach.  The  lion-hearted 
monarch  first  attacked  the  armed  boats,  and  fighting 
a  hand-and-hand  struggle  with  those  on  board,  over- 
came them,  threw  them  into  the  sea  and  took  posses- 
sion of  their  craft.  His  famous  English  marksmen 
kept  the  archers  of  Cyprus  at  bay,  while  Eichard 
and  his  men  approached  the  land.  The  king  did  not^ 
in  his  impetuosity,  wait  until  his  boats  touched  the 
shore,  but  leapt  overboard,  where  the  water  was  up 
to  his  middle,   followed  by  his  brave  fellows,  and 


The  Emperor  put  to  Flight.  93 

dashed  in  among  the  horsemen  that  were  stationed  on 
land  to  resist  him.  He  was  surrounded  by  the  host 
of  cavalry,  hut  his  iron  arm  and  mighty  heart  never 
failed  him.  He  struck  the  boldest  with  dismay  and 
kept  them  off,  until  his  men,  coming  up  to  his  aid,  the 
throng  about  him  were  scattered;  and  Richard, 
springing  at  the  bridle  of  a  horse  of  one  of  the  enemy 
with  one  hand,  and  hurling  down  the  rider  with  his 
other,  leapt  into  the  vacant  seat  and  made  for  Isaac, 
the  emperor,  whom  he  singled  out  from  a  thickly-set 
body-guard,  by  his  shining  armor  and  royal  crown. 
Richard  shouted  out,  as  he  dashed  toward  him,  "  Ho  ! 
lord  emperor,  come,  if  thou  darest,  and  meet  me 
hand  to  hand."  Isaac  was  loth  to  come  any  nearer 
to  the  fierce  Richard,  and  showed  his  discretion  by 
plunging  his  spurs  into  his  horse's  sides  at  the  sum- 
mons,* and  trusting  to  his  horse's  speed  for  safety. 
The  Cyprus  troops  followed  their  emperor's  example, 
and  there  was  a  general  flight  of  the  enemy.  They 
escaped  to  the  town  of  Limesol  and  closed  the  gates ; 
but  the  English  in  pursuit  burst  them  open  and 
rushed  into  the  place,  while  the  people  of  Cyprus  fled 
head-long  out  of  it.  Richard  and  his  men  were  now 
in  full  possession  of  all  they  wanted ;  Limesol  sup- 
plied them  with  comfortable  quarters,  abundance  of 
provisions  of  all  kinds,  and  no  small  treasure,  which 
had  been  left  behind,  in  the  precipitate  retreat  of  the 
citizens. 

The  king  now  prepared  for  the  reception  of  the 


94  The  Lion~Hearted  King. 

princesses,  and  on  the  next  morning  they  both  landed 
and  were  handsomely  provided  for  in  Limesol,  and 
Richard  was  enabled,  by  the  forced  prodigality  of 
the  citizens,  to  celebrate  the  occasion  by  a  generous 
feast. 

The  English  king  was  now  on  the  look-out  for 
further  adventure,  and  accordingly  determined  to 
seek  it  in  the  interior  of  the  island.  He  first,  how» 
ever,  had  his  horses  landed  from  the  fleet,  and  al- 
though the  animals  had  suffered  greatly  from  the 
voyage,  the  king  selected  fifty  of  those  in  best  con- 
dition, and  causing  some  of  his  boldest  knights  to 
mount,  led  them  into  the  country,  in  search  of  the 
adventures  he  so  much  longed  for. 

Isaac,  in  the  mean  time,  had  gathered  from  all 
parts  of  the  island  a  great  force,  with  which  he  was 
encamped  in  a  valley,  a  few  miles  distant  from 
Limesol,  and  with  which  he  intended  to  attack  the 
English,  and  drive  them  from  Cyprus.  Richard  and 
his  knights  were  riding  leisurely  along  a  plain,  not 
far  from  the  city  of  Limesol,  when  they  were  be- 
held by  a  large  body  of  Cyprus  horsemen,  who  had 
gone  out  to  reconnoitre.  The  latter  sounded  a  chal- 
lenge at  once,  as  they  thought  they  might  safely  do, 
as  their  own  force  so  greatly  outnumbered  the  scarce 
half-hundred,  all  told,  of  Richard's  knights.  The 
English  king  drew  up  his  horsemen  on  the  instant, 
and  listening  for  a  while  to  the  defiant  trumpet, 
caught  a  glance  of  the  Cyprus  cavalry  in  an  olive  grove, 


The  Theologian  put  Down.  95 

Adhere  they  had  halted ;  and  Eichard's  men,  digging 
their  spurs  into  their  horses'  flanks,  galloped  at  full 
speed  after  the  enemy.  The  horsemen  of  Cyprus  did 
not  await  the  approach  of  the  English,  but  hastily 
scampered  away,  and  escaped  to  the  camp,  where  Isaac 
and  his  army  were  stationed  in  the  valley.  Richard 
had  nearly  come  up  with  them,  but  halted  within  a 
short  distance,  and  taking  his  station  upon  an  emi- 
nence, looked  down  into  the  valley,  where  he  beheld 
the  army  of  Cyprus,  encamped  on  the  borders  of  a 
winding  stream,  with  the  busy  soldiers  moving  hastily 
about. 

Richard  and  his  men  were  quickly  discerned, 
and  the  outposts  tried  to  dislodge  them  by  a  shower 
of  arrows.  The  boldest  of  the  English  knights  were 
for  putting  spurs  to  their  horses  and  throwing  them- 
selves upon  the  camp  below  at  once,  while  some  of 
the  less  daring,  alarmed  at  the  overwhelming  num- 
bers of  the  army  of  Isaac,  were  for  the  less  danger- 
ous expedient  of  retreat.  Bold  Richard's  answer  to 
the  spokesman  of  the  latter  party,  Hugo  De  Mara,  a 
learned  theologian,  (who  had  been  taken  along  that 
the  knights  might  have  the  benefit  of  clergy,) 
showed  very  clearly  on  which  side  Cceur-de-Lion's 
fearless  spirit  ranged  itself:  "Sir  clerk,"  said  the 
king,  "  we  soldiers  meddle  not  with  your  profession, 
neither  do  we  presume  to  interpret  the  Scriptures. 
I  pray  you  do  likewise,  and  suffer  us  to  deal  with 
yon  rabble  as  we  see  fit." 


96  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Richard  would  listen  to  no  advice  against  what 
some  of  his  knights,  men  of  tried  courage,  could 
not  but  deem  the  wildest  madness ;  but  shouting 
to  his  men  to  follow  him,  urged  his  steed  down 
the  precipitate  descent,  and  dashed  right  into  the 
midst  of  the  camp.  King  Richard  singled  out, 
as  usual,  the  emperor  himself,  and  unhorsed  him 
with  a  single  blow  from  his  lance,  and  would  have 
taken  him  captive,  but  some  of  Isaac's  attendants 
came  to  their  master's  rescue,  and  hurriedly  mounting 
the  emperor  upon  a  fresh  horse,  galloped  away  with 
him  in  safety  from  the  field. 

The  army  being  dismayed  with  the  terrible  on- 
slaught and  daring  courage  of  King  Richard  and  his 
knights,  fled  precipitately,  throwing  away  their  arms, 
their  helmets,  lances,  and  their  standards,  in  their  head- 
long flight ;  and  escaping  up  the  sides  of  the  mountains 
in  the  rear  of  the  camp,  sought  refuge  in  the  fastnesses. 
The  emperor  Isaac  left  behind,  as  a  prize  to  the  vic- 
tors, great  stores  of  provisions,  which  were  estimated 
at  an  enormous  value  ;  and  such  was  their  abundance 
that  King  Richard  and  his  fifty  knights,  although 
they  had  won  them,  could  not  carry  them  off;  so 
they  were  forced  to  send  to  Limesol  for  a  large 
number  of  men  to  come  to  their  aid,  and  bear  away 
what  had  been  so  gallantly  obtained. 

The  emperor  now  found  that  it  was  in  vain  to  op- 
pose the  English,  and  eagerly  sought  an  interview 
with  King  Richard,  that  terms  might  be  agreed  upon, 


Richard  and  Isaac  Meet.  97 

by  which  Cyprus  and  its  inhabitants  should  have 
some  chance  of  escape.  Isaac  came  from  his  capital 
of  Nicosia,  in  the  centre  of  the  island  of  Cyprus, 
where,  he  had  retreated,  and  met  Eichard,  by  appoint- 
ment, in  a  plain  near  the  city  of  Limesol.  The 
English  king  rode  on  a  fine  Spanish  horse,  richly 
caparisoned,  and  wore  a  splendid  suit  of  silk  and 
gold,  while  his  expression  was  gay,  and  his  bearing 
gallant  and  chivalrous.  Isaac  came  as  a  humble  sup- 
pliant ;  and  as  he  ever  had,  in  harmony  with  his  de- 
ceitful character,  a  contracted,  mean  look,  on  this 
occasion  his  bearing  seemed  doubly  mean  and  spirit- 
less in  the  presence  of  the  frank  and  courageous 
Richard.  Of  course  Isaac  felt  himself  wholly  at  the 
mercy  of  the  English,  and  was  ready  to  grant  any 
concessions  demanded.  Richard  was  determined  to 
make  him  pay  roundly  for  his  inhospitality  to  his 
people,  who,  without  any  fault  of  their  own,  had  been 
thrown  upon  his  mercy.  He  accordingly  forced  him 
to  pay  down  in  gold  a  handsome  sum  as  a  compensa- 
tion for  the  wrong  he  had  done ;  to  give  up  all  his 
castles  ;  to  swear  fealty  to  the  king  of  England  ;  and 
collecting  500  infantry,  400  light  horse,  and  100 
knights,  to  follow  Richard  to  the  Holy  Wars. 

Isaac,  moreover,  was  required  to  hand  over  his  beau- 
tiful daughter,  to  whom  he  was  afFectionately  devoted, 
as  a  hostage  for  the  fulfillment  of  his  engagement.  She 
was  to  be  restored  on  the  return  from  Palestine, 
together  with  all  the  castles  and  other  property  in 
7 


98  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Cyprus,  provided  Isaac  should  keep  his  word  and 
behave  himself  properly  during  the  expedition  to  the 
Holy  Land.  The  emperor  eagerly  consented  to  these 
terms,  hard  as  they  were,  but  he  had  no  sooner  got 
away  from  the  threatening  eye  and  resolute  presence 
of  Richard  than  he  yielded  to  the  influence  of  one  of 
his  officers  of  the  name  of  Caiaphas,  who  easily  per- 
suaded the  traitorous  emperor  to  an  act  of  deceit,  to 
which  the  low  cunning  of  his  nature  made  him  prone. 
Isaac  left  Limesol  precipitately  on  the  very  night  of 
the  conference  with  Richard,  during  which  he  had 
solemnly  bound  himself  to  the  terms  that  have  been 
mentioned,  and  proceeded  to  Famagosta,  a  town  on 
the  eastern  side  of  Cyprus,  where  he  prepared  again 
to  attack  the  English.  Richard  was  ready  for  the 
emergency,  and  acted  with  his  usual  spirit  and 
promptitude. 

There  happened  to  arrive  just  at  this  time  in 
Cyprus,  a  man  of  note,  Guy  of  Lusignan,  who 
was  engaged  in  a  contest  with  Conrad,  Marquis 
of  Montserrat,  for  the  empty  honor  of  the  throne  of 
Jerusalem.  He  had  come  to  solicit  the  aid  of  King 
Richard  in  his  behalf,  which  was  heartily  tendered  him, 
although  his  opponent  was  much  the  better  man,  and 
had  secured  the  advocacy  of  King  Philip  of  France, 
and  the  stronger  part  of  the  Crusaders.  As  Guy  was 
at  hand,  Richard  was  glad  to  avail  himself  of  his  aid 
in  punishing  Isaac  of  Cyprus  ;  so  he  sent  him,  placing 
under  his  command  a  sufficient  force,  to  besiege  the 


Isaac's  Beautiful  Daughter.  99 

city  of  Famagosta  by  land,  while  he  himself  proceeded 
by  sea  to  blockade  the  mouth  of  the  harbor.  The 
English  king  thus  hoped  to  secure  the  emperor  by 
cutting  off  all  chance  of  escape.  "W  hen  Guy  reached 
Famagosta,  he  found  that  Isaac  had,  in  expectation 
of  his  arrival,  betaken  himself  with  great  dispatch  to 
the  interior  of  the  island,  and  taken  refuge  in  a  castle, 
which,  from  its  position  on  the  steep  of  a  mountain, 
was  almost  unapproachable  by  any  large  force. 
Three  castles  fell  successively  before  the  approach  of 
Guy,  in  one  of  which  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the 
emperor  of  Cyprus  Was  found,  and  taken  captive. 
This  entirely  overcame  her  father,  who  loved  his 
child  with  the  deepest  affection. 

He  left  his  mountain  retreat  and  threw  himself  at 
the  feet  of  Richard,  declaring  he  was  ready  to  give  up 
every  thing  he  had  on  earth,  if  the  English  king  would 
only  restore  to  him  his  beloved  daughter.  Richard, 
although  he  despised  the  abject  monarch,  whose  ruin 
was  his  own  fault — for  he  had  first  provoked  the  attack 
of  the  English,  by  his  insolence,  and  then  yielded 
to  it,  through  his  cowardice — still  pitied  the  father. 
Accordingly  Isaac  was  led  to  his  daughter,  and  they 
embraced  with  the  most  tender  emotions.  They  re- 
mained folded  in  each  other's  arms  for  a  long  time, 
mingling  their  tears,  now  of  joy  at  their  meeting,  and 
again  of  sorrow  at  their  misery.  Isaac  asked  of 
Richard  the  boon  of  being  chained  with  silver  fetters, 
which  was  granted  to  him,  as  a  concession  to  his  im- 


100  The  Lion-Hearted  King, 

perial  dignity.  The  former  ruler  of  Cyprus  was  kept 
in  close  confinement  until  the  departure  of  the  English 
for  the  Holy  Land,  when  the  captive  monarch  was 
conveyed  to  Palestine,  and  imprisoned  in  a  castle  on 
the  sea-shore  there,  where  he  lingered  out  a  captivity 
of  four  years,  until  his  death.  The  silver  fetters  are 
said  to  have  soothed  the  fallen  emperor's  pride,  if 
they  did  not  diminish  the  weight  of  his  chains,  or  the 
severity  of  his  bodily  sufferings. 

Previous  to  Isaac  having  thrown  himself  upon  the 
mercy  of  Richard,  the  latter,  who  had  proceeded  by 
sea  to  the  attack  on  Famagosta,  landed,  and  finding 
this  town  in  possession  of  Guy,  marched  to  the  capi- 
tal, Nicosia,  where  the  inhabitants  did  not  await  an 
assault,  but  yielded  themselves  up  at  once,  without 
striking  a  blow.  The  English  king  insisted  upon 
these  people  shaving  their  beard,  as  a  token  of  sub- 
mission ;  this  was  all  that  was  asked  of  them,  which 
they  of  course  did  not  pretend  to  resist.  The  English 
were  now  complete  masters  of  the  whole  island. 
The  emperor  a  captive  at  the  mercy  of  the  conquer- 
ors ;  his  only  child  and  heir  in  their  power ;  and  the 
people  submissive,  Cyprus  could  be  disposed  of  at 
the  will  of  Richard.  Isaac  was  kept  a  close  prisoner ; 
his  daughter  was  given  to  Berengaria,  as  her  attend- 
ant, and  became,  it  is  believed,  her  rival ;  and  the 
inhabitants  of  Cyprus  were  forced  to  contribute  pro- 
fusely to  the  expenses  of  the  Crusade.  Richard  taxed 
his  new  subjects  to  the  amount  of  half  their  movable 


Richard' 's  Marriage.  101 

property,  and  obtained  a  supply  of  provisions  and 
stores  that  contributed  greatly  to  the  success  of  his 
expedition  to  the  Holy  Land.  The  people  of  Cyprus 
were  thus  enlisted  by  the  conquest  of  Eichard,  not- 
withstanding their  proverbial  indifference  to  the 
Crusades,  among  the  greatest  though  compulsory 
benefactors  of  the  holy  cause. 

It  was  now  only  a  month  since  Richard's  first 
arrival  at  Cyprus,  and  in  that  short  period  he  had 
accomplished  all  these  great  undertakings.  The  king 
now  found  leisure  to  fulfill  his  vows  to  the  beautiful 
Berengaria,  and  accordingly  he  celebrated  his  mar 
riage  with  this  princess.  The  bishop  of  Evreux,  who 
accompanied  the  expedition,  performed  the  ceremony, 
anointed  and  crowned  the  bride,  and  she  became  the 
Queen  of  England,  a  lofty  station,  to  which  her  virtues 
well  entitled  her. 

The  Crusaders  were  now  ready  to  set  out  for  the 
Holy  Land  ;  and  the  king,  intrusting  the  government 
of  Cyprus  to  Richard  de  Camville  and  Robert  de 
Turnham,  two  of  his  bravest  and  most  trusty  barons, 
embarked  his  forces,  and  prepared  to  sail  for  Acre. 
Messengers  had  been  sent  to  him  from  Philip,  and  the 
other  Crusaders  engaged  in  the  seige  of  that  famous 
city,  urging  him  to  hasten  his  departure  from  Cyprus. 
The  temper  of  the  king  could  bear  no  interference, 
and  he  received  the  messengers  with  evident  marks 
of  irritation.  Richard  angrily  replied  that  he  knew 
his  own  business  best,  and  did  not  want,  as  he  would 


102  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

not  listen  to,  any  suggestions  from  the  French  king 
who,  no  doubt,  had  sent  the  embassy  in  order  to 
divert  the  English  from  their  conquest  of  Cyprus,  the 
fame  of  which  had  reached  the  Holy  Land,  and  had 
excited  the  envy  of  Philip. 

The  Crusaders,  however,  stood  greatly  in  need  of 
King  Richard's  aid.  The  siege  of  Acre  had  now  been 
carried  on  for  two  years,  without  effect  upon  the  ene- 
my. The  Christians  were  still  outside  the  walls,  and 
all  their  attempts  upon  the  strongly-fortified  city  had 
ingloriously  failed.  The  Christian  forces  had,  more- 
over, during  this  time,  suffered  terribly.  Those 
whom  the  sword  of  the  infidel  Turk  had  spared,  were 
struck  down  by  the  vengeance  of  God.  Six  hundred 
thousand  human  beings  (according  to  some  accounts, 
although  the  estimate  of  others  is  only  150,000) 
were  said  to  have  been  destroyed  during  the  two 
years  of  the  siege,  by  the  enemy  and  the  pestilence. 
Of  these  six  were  archbishops,  twelve  bishops,  forty 
earls,  and  the  rest  of  the  "  meaner  sort."  The  Cru- 
saders were  in  great  distress  ;  for,  in  addition  to  their 
fearful  losses,  they  were  hard  pressed  by  the  brave 
Saracen  leader,  Saladin,  who  occupied  the  heights  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Acre,  and  threatened  at  every 
moment  with  his  army  to  overwhelm  the  weakened 
and  dispirited  Crusaders. 

The  great  King  Richard  was  truly  much  needed, 
and  he  determined  now  to  hasten  to  the  rescue  of  his 
brethren  of  the  cross.     He  accordingly  set  sail  for 


A  Sail!  103 

Cyprus  with  all  his  fleet,  the  rest  of  his  missing  ships 
which  had  been  dispersed  by  the  storm,  having, 
greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  all,  put  into  the  harbor 
in  safety,  a  few  days  before  Richard's  departure. 

The  ships,  after  leaving  Limesol,  coasted  along  the 
southern  edge  of  Cyprus,  and  when  they  reached  the 
eastern  extremity  of  that  island,  boldly  put  to  sea, 
directing  their  course  to  the  shores  of  Syria,  and  first 
made  the  land  in  the  neighborhood  of  Tortosa.  They 
now  sailed  to  the  south,  hugging  the  land  close,  and 
passing  the  renowned  cities  of  Tripoli,  Biblos,  the 
modern  Djobail,  and  Beritos,  now  called  Beyrout, 
hove  in  sight  of  Sidon,  (Saidan,)  where  they  could 
see  in  the  distance  a  large  vessel  lying  off  that  port. 
The  English  fleet  made  directly  for  her,  and,  coming 
up  within  hailing  distance,  Richard  demanded  what 
she  was  and  whither  bound.  To  which  he  received 
the  reply  that  she  was  a  ship  belonging  to  the  king 
of  France,  and  was  engaged  hi  the  service  of  the 
Crusaders.  The  king,  suspecting  that  this  answer 
was  framed  to  deceive  the  English  with  the  idea  that 
she  was  a  friend,  and  having  reason  to  suppose  her 
to  be  an  enemy,  hailed  the  ship  again.  At  this  time, 
the  answer  was  that  she  was  a  Genoese  trader,  bound 
to  Tyre. 

It  became  evident,  now,  that  it  was  an  enemy's 
vessel,  trying  to  escape  under  false  colors,  and 
the  English  made  ready  to  board  her.  One  of  the 
swiftest  galleys  of  the  fleet  was  dispatched  for  thia 


104  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

purpose,  and,  making  all  speed,  came  within  a  boat's 
length  of  her,  when  those  on  board  received  from  the 
enemy  such  a  discharge  of  stones  and  missiles  of  all 
kinds  that  they  were  obliged  to  haul  off.  The 
enemy's  ship  then  made  a  desperate  effort  to  escape 
by  means  of  their  oars,  (oars  being  used  in  almost  all 
vessels  in  those  days,)  which  they  plied  with  a  will, 
and,  although  the  wind  had  lulled  almost  to  a  calm, 
so  hearty  was  the  pull,  and  so  great  the  vigor  of  the 
oarsmen,  that  there  seemed  a  fair  chance  of  her 
escape.  Richard  looked  on  with  angry  impatience, 
and  ordering  his  own  ship  in  pursuit,  succeeded  in 
coming  up  with  the  flying  vessel,  but  was  repulsed 
in  the  same  way  as  the  galley. 

The  king  was  driven  to  an  agony  of  rage,  when, 
with  all  his  attempts,  the  enemy  seemed  sure  of 
escape.  His  famous  archers  tried  their  skill,  but  their 
arrows  struck  without  effect  in  the  lofty  bulwarks  of 
the  vessel,  or  fell  down  harmless  into  the  sea ;  and 
every  attempt  to  board  was  repelled  by  such  a  shower 
of  deadly  missiles,  that  the  attack  was  about  being 
given  up  by  Richard's  men,  as  hopeless.  "  What !" 
cried  out  the  lion-hearted  king,  "  will  you  let  that 
infidel  escape  ?  Cowards,  if  you  do  I  will  nail  every 
one  of  you  on  the  cross.  Shame !  once  more  to  the 
attack,  and  if  you  master  that  fellow,  all  the  treasure 
on  board  shall  be  yours."  This  appeal  stirred  the 
flagging  courage  of  his  men  to  desperation,  and,  com- 
ing up  again  with  the  enemy,  some  of  the  sailors 


A  Capture.  105 

passed  a  rope  around  the  rudder  to  prevent  her 
steering,  while  others  clambered  up  her  lofty  bul- 
warks and  met  the  thronging  Turks  in  a  hand-to-hand 
struggle.  The  Englishmen,  however,  were  repelled 
and  thrown  back  dead  into  the  sea.  Attempt  after 
attempt  failed,  the  men  of  Richard,  at  each  renewed 
assault,  being  bravely  met  by  the  Turks,  who  fought 
with  great  courage,  and  showed  no  disposition  to 
give  up  the  ship.  The  enemy  now  began  to  use  the 
inextinguishable  Greek  fire,  which,  burning  upon 
water,  threatened  to  overwhelm  the  English  ships  in 
a  general  conflagration. 

Richard,  finding  it  useless  thus  to  sacrifice  his 
brave  followers  and  endanger  his  fleet,  gave  up 
all  efforts  to  board  the  enemy,  and  determined,  as 
he  could  not  capture,  he  would  sink  the  ship.  The 
king  accordingly  ordered  the  galleys,  which  had 
a  sharp  iron  beak  at  their  bows,  to  get  under 
full  headway  with  the  oars,  and  force  themselves, 
stem  on,  against  the  sides  of  the  ship.  Her  tim- 
bers soon  gave  way,  and  she  began  fast  to  make 
water  and  settle  down.  Those  on  board,  in  their 
never-failing  courage,  asked  for  no  mercy  and  received 
none,  but  continued  desperately  to  defend  their  ship 
as  long  as  she  could  float,  and,  when  she  was  going 
down,  plunged  into  the  sea,  where  all  the  crew 
and  soldiers,  who  amounted  to  nearly  fifteen  hundred, 
were  either  drowned  or  massacred  by  their  merciless 
opponents.     Thirty-five  of  the  principal  officers  were 


106  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

saved,  to  whom  the  mercy  of  the  insatiable  conquer- 
ors was  alone  extended,  that  they  might  grace 
Richard's  cruel  triumph. 

The  vessel  proved  to  be  a  Saracen  ship  of  the 
largest  size,  carrying  stores  and  troops  to  the  for- 
midable Saladin  at  Acre.  Her  cargo  is  said  to  have 
been  made  up  of  more  than  a  hundred  camel-loads 
of  arms,  crossbows,  bolts,  lances,  arrows,  warlike 
engines  of  every  kind,  a  great  stock  of  the  inextin- 
guishable Greek 'fire,  and  glass  bottles  filled  with  hun- 
dreds of  venomous  serpents,  which  the  Turks  intended 
to  use  against  the  Christian  crusaders  by  throwing 
them  into  their  camp  !  The  destruction  of  the  ship 
was,  of  course,  a  triumph  for  the  holy  cause,  and 
Richard  gloried  in  his  bloody  victory. 

From  the  coast  of  Sidon,  which  was  the  scene  of 
this  naval  engagement,  the  English  fleet  proceeded  on 
the  same  clay,  to  Tyre,  where  they  anchored  for  the 
night,  and  sailed,  next  morning,  with  a  favorable 
wind,  and  in  a  few  hours  arrived  in  the  harbor  of 
Acre,  on  the  8th  day  of  June,  in  the  year  1191. 

Great  was  the  joy  in  the  Christian  camp,  on  the 
arrival  of  King  Richard.  His  fame  had  extended  far 
and  wide,  and  the  Crusaders  looked  to  him  as  their 
only  hope  in  their  great  need.  The  French  king  had 
failed  to  do  them  any  effectual  service,  and  the  sol- 
diers of  the  cross  still  remained  before  the  city  of 
Acre,  as  they  had  done  for  two  years,  mocked  by  its 
infidel  inhabitants,  and  threatened  by  the  army  of  the 


Arrival  of  Richard  at  Acre.  107 

great  Saladin,  which  impended  over  the  seemingly 
fated  Christians  from  the  heights  of  Mt.  Carmel, 
ready  to  overwhelm  them  in  its  merciless  torrent. 
Siege  after  siege  had  been  attempted  against  the 
strong  city  in  vain.  The  walls  were  no  sooner  scaled 
than  the  daring  invaders  were  hurled  back  in  death, 
breaches  no  sooner  opened  than  they  were  refilled 
by  the  indefatigable  Turks,  and  all  trace  of  the 
assault  washed  away  in  Christian  blood.  For  some 
weeks  previous  to  King  Richard's  arrival,  the  Cru- 
saders had  given  up  every  effort  in  almost  hopeless 
despair. 

On  the  approach  of  the  English  fleet,  which  had 
been  observed  in  the  distance  preparing  to  enter  the 
port,  the  soldiers  deserted  their  camps,  and  thronged 
upon  the  shore,  to  catch  a  glance  of  the  great  Richard. 
His  prowess  was  familiar  to  all ;  but  there  were 
many  who,  though  his  blow  had  resounded  through 
Christendom,  had  never  beheld  that  arm  of  might 
from  which  it  fell.  When  the  story  of  the  deeds  of 
the  renowned  hero  went  the  round  of  the  camp,  there 
were  those  who  had  seen  him  in  France  and  Nor- 
mandy, who  would  delight  to  talk  of  the  great 
Richard,  and  describe  his  mighty  presence ;  his  com- 
manding look  and  his  eye,  which  struck  terror  to  the 
heart  of  his  enemy ;  his  towering  stature  and  stalwart 
figure ;  his  long  and  powerful  arms ;  his  firm  seat 
and  skillful  horsemanship ;  the  impetuosity  of  his 
onset  in  the  fight ;  the  might  of  his  blow  and  the  cer- 


108  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

tainty  of  his  aim.  Nor  did  they  fail  to  dwell  upon 
his  good  fellowship  with  all  his  friends,  whether  king 
or  soldier ;  his  hearty  love  of  a  jest ;  his  convivial 
enjoyment  over  a  tankard  of  ale,  or  a  goblet  of  sack  ; 
and  his  liberal  nature,  which  led  him  to  spend  his 
treasure  with  a  full  hand,  and  share  it  with  a  gene- 
rous heart.  Great  was  the  eagerness  to  behold  the 
hero  ;  nor  was  the  heightened  expectation  disappointed 
on  his  arrival.  He  was  welcomed  with  loud  huzzas, 
mingling  withthe  sound  of  the  drum  and  the  trumpet, 
and  that  day  was  one,  such  as  had  not  cheered  the 
weary  pilgrims  of  the  cross  for  many  a  month,  of 
great  revelry  and  enjoyment  in  the  camp  of  the 
Crusaders ;  for  the  mighty  Richard  had  arrived,  and 
his  presence  was  an  assurance  of  safety  and  a  certain 
promise  of  success.  The  peals  of  merriment  which 
rang  out  from  the  happy  Crusaders  must  have  tolled 
an  echo  of  doom  within  the  walls  of  Acre,  and  pros- 
trated the  Turks  in  fear  of  coming  death,  as  it  was  a 
joyous  lifting  of  the  hearts  of  the  Christians,  in  their 
hope  of  approaching  victory. 

King  Richard  commenced  operations  immediately 
on  his  arrival.  He  lost  not  a  moment ;  and  although, 
with  his  true  love  of  fame,  he  was  rejoiced  to  find 
that  all  had  been  left  for  him  to  do,  he  could  not  but  look 
with  contempt  upon  the  want  of  energy  that  had  been 
shown  by  those  who  had  arrived  before  him.  King 
Philip  was  disposed  to  have  hazarded  an  assault  upon 
Acre,  but  he  failed  to  obtain  the  consent  of  the  other 


Envy  of  the  French  King.  109 

Crusaders,  who  evidently  had  not  that  confidence  in 
the  French  king  that  they  had  in  his  great  rival. 

The  English  king  landed  with  the  greatest  dispatch 
his  army  and  military  stores,  and  set  his  men  to 
work  constructing  those  warlike  engines  with  which 
he  proposed  to  batter  the  walls,  to  hurl  stones  and 
other  missiles  into  the  city,  and  protect  the  besiegers 
in  an  attack.  Nor  did  he  spare  his  own  personal 
efforts,  but  labored  like  the  meanest  common  soldier 
at  all  the  works. 

Although  the  king  of  France  had  welcomed  Richard 
on  his  arrival  with  an  apparent  sincerity,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  he  was  sorely  disturbed  by  the  presence 
of  the  lion-hearted  king.  Their  old  quarrels  were 
still  fresh  in  the  remembrance  of  both,  and  Philip 
had  new  cause  of  an  unfriendly  feeling  to  his  rival,  in 
the  greater  admiration  which  the  fame  and  character 
of  Richard  commanded  in  the  camp  of  the  Crusaders. 
Until  the  arrival  of  the  English  king,  the  French 
monarch  was  the  personage  of  the  highest  rank  among 
the  Crusaders,  and  held  the  supreme  authority. 
With  Richard,  as  king  of  England,  he  had  to  divide 
whatever  was  claimed  on  the  score  of  rank,  and  yield 
to  him  all  that  belonged  to  superior  genius  and 
greater  prowess. 

The  French  king  was  secretly  ranged,  no  doubt, 
from  the  first,  among  the  enemies  of  Richard, 
and  with  him  was  associated  the  Marquis  Conrad 
of  Tyre.     The  latter  naturally  took  sides   against 


110  The  Lion-Hearled  King. 

the  English  king,  for  Cceur-de-Lion  had  openly- 
espoused  the  cause  of  Conrad's  competitor,  Guy 
of  Lusignan,  for  the  crown  of  Jerusalem.  In  order 
to  understand  this  rivalry  between  Conrad  and 
Guy,  we  must  call  to  mind  the  history  of  the  suc- 
cession to  the  throne  of  Jerusalem.  Guy  of  Lusig- 
nan had  married  Sybilla,  the  heiress  to  the  crown, 
and  had  thus  become  possessed  of  the  title  of  king ; 
and  though  the  successful  invasion  of  the  Saracens, 
led  by  Saladin,'  had  deprived  him  of  his  kingdom,  he 
was  acknowledged  by  the  Crusaders  as  king  of 
Jerusalem.  His  queen,  Sybilla,  however,  died,  leav- 
ing no  issue ;  but  she  had  a  younger  sister,  of  the 
name  of  Isabella,  who,  having  married  the  Marquis 
Conrad  of  Tyre,  claimed  the  throne  for  her  husband, 
while  Guy  of  Lusignan  maintained  that  the  royal  title 
could  not  be  alienated,  and  persisted  in  his  right  to 
the  throne.  This  question  divided  the  Crusaders 
into  two  opposing  factions,  twhich  seriously  embar- 
rassed the  unity  of  action  of  the  Crusade,  and  led  to 
many  serious  obstructions  to  the  holy  cause. 

Guy  de  Lusignan  had  secured  Richard  on  his  side, 
by  his  politic  visit  to  the  king  when  at  Cyprus.  The 
Flemings,  the  Pisans,  and  the  Knight  Hospitallers  of 
St.  John  were  of  the  same  party.  Conrad  was,  on  the 
other  hand,  seconded  by  Philip  of  France,  the  Tem- 
plars, the  Genoese,  and  the  Germans.  Richard  was  a 
host  in  himself,  and  by  his  advocacy  of  the  cause  of 
Guy,  gave  it  the  predominancy  over  that  of  bis  rival. 


First  Assault.  Ill 

The  French  king,  about  this  time,  had  serious  inten- 
tions of  abandoning  the  Crusade,  and  returning  to 
France,  where  he  had  ambitious  designs  of  his  own, 
with  which  he  had  no  reason  to  fear  any  interference, 
and  might  be  thus  relieved  from  the  annoying  su- 
periority of  his  great  rival,  the  king  of  England. 

A  day  was  now  fixed  for  a  vigorous  assault  upon 
the  hitherto  impregnable  Acre.  Richard  had  made 
all  his  preparations  with  consummate  art,  and  arrang- 
ing his  engines  in  a  maimer  best  suited  for  their  effi- 
cient operations,  he  led  out  his  forces,  ready  to  begin 
the  attack.  Philip,  having  quelled  his  envious  feel- 
ings for  a  while,  seconded  these  preparations  with  a 
spirit  of  generous  rivalry,  and  the  French,  as  well  as 
the  other  Crusaders,  showed  themselves  eager  to 
support  the  common  cause.  The  camp  was  in  a  state 
of  excitement,  fierce  for  the  charge  and  confident  of 
success.  The  Crusaders,  however,  were  destined  to 
great  disappointment.  The  English  king  was  sud- 
denly taken  ill,  and  was  carried  to  his  tent  and  thence 
to  his  couch.  It  was  soon  discovered  that  he  was 
suffering  from  an  attack  of  the  pestilent  fever  of  the 
country,  to  which  his  great  labors,  by  night  and  by 
day,  had  predisposed  him.  He  became  immediately 
so  prostrated  by  the  disease,  that  he  was  unable  to 
lead  his  brave  English  to  the  assault  for  which  he  had 
made  so  great  preparation,  and  of  the  success  of  which 
he  had  so  confident  a  hope.  The  Crusaders  were 
sadly  disheartened  by  this  misfortune,  and  were 
desirous  of  postponing  the  attack  upon  Acre. 


112  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Philip,  however,  eager  to  avail  himself  of  this  oppor- 
tunity to  steal  a  march  upon  the  sick  king,  resolved  not 
to  await  his  restoration  to  health,  but  to  lead  the  Cru- 
saders at  once  against  the  city.  The  Saracens  within 
the  walls  of  Acre  became  aware  of  the  proposed 
attack,  and,  sending  a  messenger  to  inform  Saladin, 
who  was  at  the  head  of  his  forces,  ranged  upon  the 
acclivity  of  Mt.  Carmel,  this  able  commander  pre- 
pared for  the  emergency  with  his  usual  spirit  and 
consummate  skill.  He  drew  up  his  army  in  such  a 
way  as  to  attack  the  rear  of  the  Crusaders.  Philip, 
ordering  the  engines  to  be  brought  to  bear  against 
the  walls  of  the  city,  commenced  the  assault  with 
great  spirit ;  but  no  sooner  had  his  forces  begun  to 
ply  the  battering-rams  and  work  the  catapults,  than 
Saladin  bore  down  Avith  a  tremendous  onslaught  upon 
the  rear  of  the  Crusaders.  Geoffrey  of  Lusignan, 
the  brother  of  Guy,  who  had  been  stationed  with  a 
considerable  force  so  as  to  counteract  this  expected 
manoeuvre,  gave  way  before  the  furious  charge  of 
Saladin,  but  calling  to  his  aid  some  of  those  engaged 
at  the  walls,  and  performing  prodigies  of  valor  him- 
self, he  rallied  his  troops  and  recovered  his  position. 
Saladin  was  obliged  to  betake  himself  again  to  the 
heights  of  Mt.  Carmel ;  but  his  manoeuvre  had  so  far 
succeeded  as  to  draw  off  the  Crusaders  from  Acre, 
and  force  the  French  king  to  cease  from  his  attempt 
for  the  present. 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE  unsuccessful  attempt  to  storm  Acre,  which 
we  have  described  in  the  preceding  chapter, 
was  a  sad  discouragement  to  the  Crusaders,  and  a 
heavy  blow  to  the  French  king.  Philip  had  sought 
the  occasion  of  Richard's  prostrate  condition  on  a  bed 
of  sickness,  to  gain  for  himself  alone  the  immortal 
fame  of  a  successful  issue  to  the  long  siege  of  the 
strongly  fortified  city,  which  had  bid  defiance,  for  two 
years,  to  the  persevering  efforts  of  the  Christians. 
The  French  king  retired  to  his  tent  with  his  pride 
deeply  wounded;  nor  was  he  enabled  for  some 
weeks  to  show  himself  in  the  camp  ;  for,  in  addition  to 
his  humbled  spirit,  he  was  laid  prostrate  by  the  same 
fever  which  now  extended  the  English  king  upon  a 
bed  of  sickness. 

In  the  mean  time,  however,  the  restless  spirits  of 
the  Crusaders  were  not  inactive,  and  during  the  illness 
of  the  two  monarchs,  several  renewed  assaults  were 
directed  against  the  walls  of  Acre.  The  besieged, 
however,  had  the  advantage  in  all  these  encounters ; 
they  beat  off  the  invaders  time  and  again,  destroyed 
their  engines  by  means  of  large  stones  which  they 
threw  over  the  walls,  and  set  fire  to  the  lofty  wooden 


114  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

towers,  which  had  been  built  by  the  Crusaders  to 
command  the  town  and  afford  a  secure  position  for 
their  bowmen,  from  which  they  might  pour  down 
their  destructive  torrents  of  bolts  and  arrows  upon  the 
inhabitants.  The  Turks  had  a  supply  of  the  Greek  fire, 
which  would  burn  upon  the  surface  of  water,  and  the 
flames  of  which  clung  to  every  thing  it  touched,  until 
smoke  and  ashes  left  nothirg  for  its  destructive  grasp. 
The  Saracens  poured  torrents  of  this  fire  over  the 
walls,  which  drove  the  besiegers  before  its  burning 
current,  and  leaping  upon  the  outworks  and  spreading 
its  sheets  of  flame  everywhere,  wrapped  tower  and  ter- 
race in  ruin.  An  attempt  was  made,  but  in  vain,  to 
check  the  conflagration  which  ensued.  The  works  of 
the  Crusaders  were  of  wood,  and  of  course  easily 
yielded  to  the  fire.  The  use  of  hides  spread  over  the 
towers  and  the  other  structures,  which  were  supposed 
to  resist  the  flames  of  the  Greek  fire,  proved  of  no 
avail,  and  the  Crusaders  were  forced  to  look  on  in 
hopeless  despair,  at  the  irresistible  destruction  of  the 
fruit  of  their  long  labor. 

Philip  soon  recovered  from  his  fever,  and  sought, 
while  the  English  king  was  still  prostrate — for  Rich- 
ard's attack  had  been  much  the  more  severe,  and  he 
was  yet  unable  to  move  from  his  couch — to  wipe 
away  the  disgrace  of  his  former  failure  by  another 
assault  upon  Acre.  Before  the  French  king  was  able 
to  bear  the  weight  of  his  armor,  he  was  abroad  in  the 
camp,  and  was  to  be  seen,  in  person,  at  all  hours, 


Another  Attempt  on  Acre.  115 

directing  the  works  for  his  renewed  attack.  The 
plan  he  now  pursued,  consisted  in  undermining  the 
walls  of  Acre,  propping  them  up  with  wooden  beams, 
with  the  intention,  when  the  assault  should  begin,  of 
setting  fire  to  the  props,  with  the  expectation  that  as 
these  gave  way,  the  walls  would  yield  and  a  breach 
be  opened,  through  which  the  Crusaders  might  rush 
'ipon  the  devoted  Turks.  This  work  was  carried  on 
<vith  great  spirit,  and  promptly  accomplished  in  the 
course  of  a  few  weeks. 

All  now  being  ready,  those  who  had  been  sta- 
tioned with  torches  in  their  hands  for  the  perform- 
ance of  the  duty,  at  a  given  order,  set  fire  to 
the  wooden  supports,  which,  as  they  burned,  yielded, 
and  the  wall  with  them.  The  Crusaders  were 
now  drawn  up,  with  their  battle-axes  and  lances 
poised,  and  their  bows  drawn,  eager  for  the  onslaught, 
watching  with  anxious  hearts  the  yielding  walls. 
Sad,  however,  was  the  disappointment,  when  it  was 
found  that  the  plan  had  failed.  The  walls,  instead  of 
falling  into  ruins  and  thus  opening  a  breach  into  the 
city,  merely  yielded,  sinking  into  the  earth  and 
inclining  slightly  outward.  The  impetuous  Cru- 
saders, however,  hastily  seized  their  scaling  ladders, 
and  planting  them  against  the  walls,  thronged  up  to 
the  heights,  where  the  resisting  Turks  met  the  rushing 
multitude  with  their  opposing  might,  and  dashed  them 
off"  into  the  abyss  of  death.  The  people  of  Acre 
fought  with  resistless  courage,  and  each  ladder  raised 


116  The  Lion-Hearled  King. 

to  their  walls  and  soldier  who  mounted  it,  were 
hurled  to  the  ground.  Alberic,  a  marshal  of 
France,  one  of  the  noblest  and  bravest  of  the  French 
chivalry,  had  sworn  that  day  to  conquer  Acre  or  die. 
He  planted  his  scaling  ladder  against  the  wall,  and 
first  mounting  it,  sprung  upon  the  battlement,  driving 
off  with  his  single  arm  the  throng  of  opposing  Sara- 
cens. His  soldiers  followed  in  crowds  after  him,  but, 
clinging  in  such  numbers  to  the  ladder,  broke  it  by 
their  weight,  leaving  the  brave  Alberic  to  defend  him- 
self, single-handed,  against  the  enemy's  host.  He 
yielded  up  his  brave  spirit  in  death  to  the  countless 
hands  of  his  opponents,  having  died  fighting  hopelessly 
against  fearful  odds  upon  the  walls  of  Acre.  This 
cast  a  great  gloom  over  the  Crusaders,  for  Alberic  was 
one  of  the  bravest  knights  and  noblest  gentlemen 
enlisted  in  the  holy  cause. 

We  have  said  nothing  of  the  whereabouts  of  Saladin 
and  his  army  during  this  unsuccessful  attack  upon 
Acre.  This  brave  Saracen,  as  before,  led  his  forces 
down  from  his  mountain  encampment,  and  attacked 
the  camp  of  the  Crusaders,  who,  however,  being 
better  prepared  for  him  on  this  occasion,  forced 
Saladin  back  to  his  cpiarters  without  his  being  able, 
as  hitherto,  seriously  to  harass  the  rear  of  the  Christ- 
ian army. 

The  Crusaders  having  ceased  their  hopeless  efforts 
and  given  up,  for  the  present,  the  attempt  to  storm 
the  city,  King  Philip  withdrew  hastily  and  dejectedly 


Recovery  of  Richard.  117 

to  his  tent,  and  now,  for  a  second  time,  was  forced  to 
fret  his  heart  with  disappointment. 

Richard  now  began  to  recover,  much  to  the  en- 
couragement of  the  disheartened  Crusaders.  The 
spirited  king  was  no  sooner  able  to  leave  his  couch 
than  he  busied  himself  at  once  with  the  preparations 
for  trying  his  fortune  against  the  resisting  Acre. 
There  was  a  lofty  tower,  which  raised  its  threatening 
aspect  high  above  the  battlements  of  the  city,  and 
which  was  known  by  the  name  of  the  Wicked  Tower 
from  tradition  having  attributed  the  expense  of  its 
erection  to  the  thirty  pieces  of  silver  for  which  Judas 
Iscariot  had  sold  his  Master.  It  had  hitherto  resisted 
every  attack,  but  the  resolute  Richard  was  not  to  be 
frightened  by  the  failure  of  any  man,  however  heroic, 
who  had  gone  before  him ;  and  he  determined  to  carry 
the  Wicked  Tower,  in  spite  of  the  misfortune  of  the 
past  and  the  fear  of  the  present.  In  order  to  protect 
his  men  while  working  the  battering-rams,  he  con- 
structed a  large  shed,  the  roof  of  which  he  contrived, 
by  some  means  or  other,  to  make  fire-proof,  and  in- 
stead of  weakening  his  forces  by  dispersion,  he  deter- 
mined to  concentrate  their  efforts  against  the  Wicked 
Tower  alone. 

The  king  having  completed  his  shed,  then  moved 
beneath  it  his  battering-rams  and  engines,  designed 
for  casting  missiles  into  the  besieged  city,  and  for 
which  he  had  a  supply  of  enormous  stones  he 
had   brought  from   Messina   in  ballast.     All  being 


118  The  Lion- Hear  ted  King. 

ready,  the  attack  commenced,  the  whole  effort  being 
directed  against  the  Wicked  Tower.  While  the 
miners  were  busy  in  undermining  the  foundations  of 
the  tower  by  their  excavations,  the  battering-rams, 
which  Eichard's  plan  of  concentrating  his  men 
afforded  an  opportunity  of  applying  with  unusual 
power,  were  driven  with  great  force  against  the  walls. 
The  tower,  trembling  under  these  heavy  blows,  and 
tottering  upon  its  weakened  base,  the  foundations  of 
which  had  been  sapped,  began  soon  to  yield,  and,  in- 
clining fearfully  for  a  moment,  finally  fell  over  with 
a  crash  that  resounded  through  the  camp.  A  breach 
was  thus  made,  to  which  the  impetuous  English 
thronged,  led  on  by  the  Earl  of  Leicester  and  the 
fighting  Bishop  of  Salisbury.  Richard  had  sent  word 
to  the  other  Crusaders  of  his  success ;  but  without 
awaiting  their  coming  up,  ordered  the  attack.  The. 
fall  of  the  lofty  tower  had  so  encumbered  the  breach 
with  its  ruins,  that  there  was  great  difficulty  in  clam- 
bering up  to  it,  and  the  Turks  guarded  the  entrance 
with  such  dogged  determination  that  the  fury  of  each 
successive  onslaught  of  the  English,  unsated  by  the 
torrents  of  blood  which  flowed,  and  the  numberless 
dead  who  fell  that  day  in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Cross, 
was  met  by  their  resolute  enemy,  whose  firmness  re- 
sisted every  shock,  and  in  whose  ranks  death  seemed 
to  make  no  gap.  As  those  in  front  fell  before  the 
attack  of  the  Crusaders,  others  on  the  instant  sprung 
to  their  dead  comrades'  places ;  and  such  were  the 


Acre  Proposes  to  Capitulate.  119 

^varrns  of  devoted  Turks  within  the  city,  that  the 
English  seemed  likely  to  give  way  from  the  mere 
fatigue  of  slaughter.  The  struggle,  however,  con- 
tinued for  a  long  time  with  no  apparent  gain  on  either 
side.  The  Turks  now  commenced  hurling  missiles 
from  the  walls  above  upon  the  English  in  the  breach, 
and  to  pour  down  upon  them  torrents  of  the  Greek 
fire,  which,  deluging  the  men  with  its  liquid  flames, 
entered  the  interstices  of  their  armor,  and  burned  the 
flesh  to  the  bone.  The  soldiers  could  not  resist  this, 
and  were  obliged  to  draw  off  from  the  walls.  The 
English  had  been  well  seconded  by  their  allies?  the 
men  of  Pisa,  in  their  desperate  assault ;  but  Philip's 
jealous  spirit  had  caused  him  to  withhold  his  soldiers, 
and  consequently  the  force  engaged  was  comparatively 
small. 

The  Saracens  speedily  repaired  the  breach  during 
the  night,  and  in  the  morning  the  Crusaders  found 
that  their  labor  would  have  to  commence  again. 
Richard's  resolute  spirit,  however,  never  faltered, 
and  he  was  prepared  to  begin  anew  with  his  resources 
and  courage  unexhausted. 

The  Saracens,  however,  were  now  tired  out,  and 
proposed  a  capitulation.  The  besieged  had  been  dis- 
appointed in  obtaining  supplies.  The  active  watch- 
fulness of  the  English  and  French  fleets,  which  kept 
hovering  up  and  down  the  coast,  prevented  any  aid 
by  sea,  and  Saladin  and  his  forces  were  cut  off  by  the 
English  camp    from   affording  any  relief  by  land. 


120  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

There  was  one  strange  incident,  the  mystery  of  which 
has  never  been  cleared  up,  which  greatly  interfered 
with  the  success  of  the  plans  of  the  enemy.  When- 
ever any  thing  important  was  in  contemplation  by 
the  besieged,  the  Crusaders  were  sure  to  be  informed 
of  every  particular  of  the  proposed  design.  Letters 
attached  to  arrows  were  constantly  falling  into  the 
English  camp,  shot  from  within  the  walls  of  Acre, 
which  exposed  the  minutest  details  of  the  tactics  of 
the  Saracens.  The  writer  was  supposed  to  be  a  per- 
son of  high  rank,  for  he  was  evidently  informed  of 
what  could  only  be  learned  by  those  in  authority. 
The  writer  stated  that  he  was  a  Christian,  but  gave 
no  further  information  of  his  history  or  his  position. 
It  was  suspected  by  many  that  he  was  some  European 
renegade  from  his  faith,  whose  heart  was  still  with 
his  countrymen,  but  his  interest  with  the  Turks ; 
while  others  imagined  that  it  might  be  a  captive 
Christian  beauty,  whose  influence  over  some  Turkish 
dignitary,  to  whose  infidel  arms  fate  had  consigned 
her,  wrung  from  him,  in  the  dalliance  of  the  harem, 
the  secrets  of  state,  which  enabled  her  to  communi- 
cate to  those  of  her  own  faith  the  important  inform- 
ation contained  in  the  letters.  Every  thing,  how- 
ever, was  left  for  ever  in  the  uncertainty  of 
conjecture.  The  success,  through  this  mysterious 
source  of  information,  with  which  the  Crusaders  were 
enabled  to  thwart  every  plan  of  the  besieged ;  the 
failure  of  supplies  ;  the  sufferings  of  the  Turks  from 


Terms  Proposed  by  the  Turks.  121 

•want  of  provisions  ;  and  their  terrible  losses  of  :ife 
from  the  repeated  bloody  onslaughts  of  the  Crusaders ; 
and  the  great  feme  of  the  English  king,  whose  pre 
sence  was  &  prestige  of  victory,  combined  to  induce 
the  Saracens  of  Acre  to  propose  a  capitulation. 

The  town  was  under  the  command  of  five  supreme 
Turkish  officers,  who  were  called  emirs.  These, 
together  with  others  in  authority,  having  met  together 
in  grave  deliberation  upon  the  emergency,  and  the 
garrison  generally  having  been  consulted,  it  was  de- 
termined that  two  of  the  emirs,  of  the  names  of  Mes- 
toc  and  Caracos,  should  be  delegated  to  bear  to  the 
Crusaders  the  surrender  of  Acre,  and  of  all  it  con- 
tained, on  the  condition  that  the  Turks  should  be 
permitted  to  pass  out  honorably  and  unharmed. 
The  emirs  were  admitted  to  the  presence  of  the 
Christian  mouarchs,  and  their  proposal  was  listened 
to  graciously  by  the  French  king,  who  caught-eagerly 
at  their  offer,  and  was  ready  to  grant  readily  all  they 
asked;  but  the  impetuous  Richard  burst  forth  in 
these  words :  "  Do  you  reckon  that  I  can  not  take  by 
force  what  you  now  offer  as  a  favor  \  Behold  your 
tottering  walls  and  towers,  and  answer  me,  if  it  be 
necessary  for  you  to  surrender  the  town  before  I 
conquer  it."  The  English  king  would  accept  no 
such  terms  as  the  Turks  proffered,  and  Philip,  seeing 
the  determination  of  Richard,  yielded  his  own  com- 
placent humor  to  the  mastery  of  the  more  resolute 
will  of  his  ally. 


122  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

The  monarch-  mnv  in  their  turn  made  pro- 
positions in  !>•  half  of  the  Crusaders  to  the  emirs. 
These  were  to  the  effect  that  the  true  cross,  which 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Turks,  should  be 
restored;  that  all  the  territory  of  the  Holy  Land 
in  possession  of  the  Latins  in  the  time  of  the  sacred 
crusade  should  be  yielded  up  ;  and  that  every  Christ- 
ian captive  should  be  set  free.  On  these  terms 
alone,  the.  monarchs  declared,  would  the  Saracens 
within  the  walls  of  Acre  be  allowed  to  depart-  in 
safety.  The  emirs  replied,  that  they  had  no  autho- 
rity to  agree  to  any  propositions  but  those  first 
offered,  but  that  they  would  bear  to  the  Sultan  Sala- 
din  the  terms  proposed  by  the  Crusaders,  and  that 
they  were  ready  to  use  all  their  influence  in  obtain 
ing  his  consent.  They  accordingly  proceeded  to  the 
camp  of  Salad  in  on  Mt.  Carmel,  and  laying  the  pro- 
positions of  the  Christian  monarchs  at  the  feet  of  the 
great  Sultan,  humbly  supplicated  his  compliance. 
Saladin,  however,  peremptorily  refused,  and  appeal- 
ing to  the  sense  of  honor  of  the  emirs,  proudly  asked 
them,  if  .they  were  in  his  place  would  they  be  will- 
ing to  sacrifice  Turkish  honor  for  the  sake  of  Acre, 
however  pitiable  its  condition.  The  emirs  could  not 
deny  the  justice  of  the  appeal,  and  sorrowfully  took 
their  departure  for  the  doomed  city. 

The  unknown  letter-writer  discharged  on  that 
night  another  missive  into  the  camp  of  the  Crusaders, 
which  disclosed  to  them  a  proposed  attack  of  Saladin, 


Another  Attack.  123 

by  which  the  Christians  were  to  be  diverted  from 
Acre,  that  the  besieged  might  have  a  chance  of 
escape  from  the  city.  The  march  of  Saladin  com- 
menced, and  the  Turks  of  Acre  began  their  flight, 
when,  much  to  the  surprise  of  both,  the  Crusaders 
were  on  guard,  and  prevented  the  success  of 
either.  The  Christians  were  much  indebted  to  their 
unknown  friend ;  for  the  plan  of  the  Turks  was  inge- 
niously contrived,  and  would  have  been,  doubtless, 
well  carried  out,  had  not  the  Crusaders  been  timely 
informed  by  the  mysterious  spy  in  the  midst  of  the 
enemy. 

The  English  now  renewed  their  operations  against 
Acre.  The  walls  had  been  undermined  and  props 
placed  against  them,  as  was  done  by  the  French  on 
a  previous  occasion,  which  were  now  set  fire  to  with 
a  successful  result.  A  large  portion  of  the  walls  fell 
with  a  crash,  and  opened  a  breach  through  which 
Richard  was  making  ready  to  lead  his  men  to  the 
assault.  The  Sarcacens,  however,  now  threw  out  a 
signal  of  surrender,  which  the  English  king,  anxious 
to  save  the  bloodshed  which  must  have  ensued, 
signified  his  intention  of  answering.  Eichard  accord- 
ingly drew  off  his  forces  and  awaited  the  arrival  of 
the  emirs,  who  again  presented  themselves  in  the 
camp  of  the  Crusaders,  offering  the  same  terms  as 
before,  which  Avere  not  accepted.  The  Turkish 
officers  then  proceeded  to  the  camp  of  Saladin  to  con- 
sult with  him  again  in  the  emergency.     The  Sultan,- 


124  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

now  taking  pity  upon  the  suffering  condition  of  tho 
besieged,  was  disposed  to  be  more  liberal  in  his  con- 
cessions, and  offered  to  the  Crusaders  to  give  up  to 
them  the  holy  cross,  the  City  of  Jerusalem,  and  all 
the  cities  and  castles  in  Palestine  which  he  had  taken 
after  the  battle  of  Tiberias,  as  well  as  the  Christians 
he  held  captive.  The  conditions  he  demanded  were, 
that  the  people  within  the  city  of  Acre  should  b<* 
allowed  free  egress,  and  the  Christians  should  aid 
him  in  a  war  against  the  sons  of  his  predecessoi 
Nourcddin.  The  Christians,  unwilling  to  entangle 
themselves  in  an  alliance  with  the  infidel  leader> 
rejected  these  propositions,  and  the  emirs  again  re 
turned  to  Acre,  overwhelmed  with  disappointment 
and  sorrow. 

Philip  of  Prance  was  now  disposed  to  try  his  for- 
tune again,  and  began  an  assault  upon  the  besieged ; 
but  this  attempt,  like  his  former,  resulted  in  severe 
loss  and  disappointment.  The  English,  with  their 
spirited  allies,  the  men  of  Pisa,  now  made  ready  to 
make  another  desperate  attack.  In  the  mean  time 
Caiaphas,  a  town  situated  in  the  Bay  of  Acre,  was  set 
fire  to  by  the  Saracens,  and  the  beautiful  vineyards 
in  the  neighborhood  laid  waste.  This  town  was  in 
the  possession  of  the  Crusaders,  and  Saladin  had  long 
sought  an  opportunity  of  taking  or  destroying  it. 

The  English  now  advanced  to  the  breach  in  the 
walls  of  Acre,  and  prepared  to  throw  themselves  into 
the  city  with  the  resolute  determination  of  taking  it 


Acre  Entered.  125 

or  perishing  in  the  attempt.  As  they  approached 
they  were  again  met  by  a  signal  of  surrender  from 
the  garrison,  and  on  this  occasion,  the  Saracens  were 
less  disposed  to  wrangle  about  terms,  and  readily 
consented  to  deliver  up  the  city  upon  conditions 
satisfactory  to  the  Crusaders.  Acre  was  then  deliv- 
ered up  on  the  twelfth  day  of  June,  in  the  year  1111. 
The  Saracens  paid  dearly  for  the  ransom  of  their  lives, 
having  given  up  all  their  property,  even  to  the  arms 
which  they  wore,  of  which  they  were  stripped,  and 
having  pledged  themselves  to  return  the  holy  cross, 
to  free  fifteen  hundred  Christian  captives,  and  to  pay 
over  two  hundred  thousand  pieces  of  gold.  Some 
thousands  of  the  Saracens  were  detained  as  hostages 
to  secure  the  fulfillment  of  these  pledges.  If  Saladin 
failed  in  the  course  of  ten  days  to  keep  to  the  very 
letter  of  his  agreement,  the  life-blood  of  these  Turk- 
ish hostages  was  to  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  Christians. 
The  conquerors  now  entered  the  famous  city  of 
Acre,  and  at  last  enjoyed  the  hard-fought  and  long- 
sought  conquest,  which  was  hailed  by  Christendom 
as  a  triumph  of  the  cross,  and  as  giving  glory  to  God 
in  the  highest,  but  over  the  bloody  record  of  which 
we  now  shudder  and  turn  away  from  as  history  of  the 
dark  deeds  of  demons  of  earth  which  must  have 
given  enjoyment  to  their  kindred  devils  in  hell. 
The  cruelty  and  bloodshed  in  which  the  warriors  of 
those  days  delighted,  were,  in  their  perverse  sense 
of  the  Gospel,  claimed  to  be  in  consonance  with  the 
teachings  of  Christ.     But  it  is  too  often  thus,  that 


126  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

man  serves  the  devil  in  the  livery  of  heaven.  The 
taste  of  the  age  was  for  blood  and  war,  and  mankind 
sought  to  sanction  the  corrupt  passions  of  their  hearts 
by  the  doctrines  of  religion. 

For  nearly  three  years  Acre  had  been  besieged, 
and  during  that  time  six  hundred  thousand  Christians 
are  recorded  by  the  old  chroniclers  to  have  perished, 
while  we  have  no  account  of  the  myriads  of  Turks 
who  must  have  made  a  fearful  addition  to  this  list  of 
the  dead.  Christendom  poured  out  its  blood  in  a 
constant  stream,  which  washed  the  unmoved  base  of 
Acre  for  two  years,  and  with  which  the  thirst  of  con- 
quest was  never  slaked.  The  treasury  of  every 
kingdom  of  Europe  was  drained  to  supply  the  enor- 
mous expenses  of  this  holy  undertaking.  And  what 
was  the  result  of  this  profusion  of  blood  and  wealth  1 
The  casting  aside  of  the  eternal  laws  of  Christ,  and 
the  winning  of  the  worthless  possession  of  the  rotting 
and  doubtful  memorial  of  his  sufferings. 

On  taking  possession  of  Acre,  Eichard  established 
himself  in  the  best  house  in  the  place,  while  King 
Philip  was  obliged  to  take  up  his  quarters  with  the 
Knight  Templars.  The  standards  of  the  two  monarchs 
divided,  however,  equally  the  honors  of  the  city,  and 
floated  in  union  upon  the  towers  and  battlements. 
The  treasure,  according  to  agreement,  was  to  have 
been  divided  between  Richard  and  Philip,  but  the 
other  Crusaders  were  now  properly  allowed  to  have 
a  proportionate  share. 


Richard  and  Philip  Quarrel  Again.         127 

The  old  quarrels  between  the  French  and  English 
kings  now  began  to  inflame  anew.  Philip  renewed 
his  demand  for  an  equal  division  of  the  English  con- 
quest of  Cyprus,  basing  his  claim  on  the  ground  of 
the  original  treaty  with  Richard.  To  which  the  latter 
replied  that  he  would  willingly  consent,  provided 
Philip  would  also  share  with  him  the  territory  of 
Flanders,  and  the  treasure  which  had  fallen  to  the 
French  king  on  the  death  of  the  earl  of  that  province, 
as  well  as  the  city  of  Tyre,  which  had  been  ceded  to 
Philip  by  the  Marquis  Conrad.  The  English  king 
contended  that  he  was  as  much  entitled  to  a  half  of 
these  latter  possessions  as  Philip  was  to  an  equal 
division  of  Cyprus.  They  had  all  been  acquired 
since  the  two  monarchs  had  set  out  for  the  Crusades, 
and  solemnly  set  their  seals  to  the  treaty  by'which 
all  they  became  possessed  of  during  the  expedition 
should  be  equally  divided  between  the  respective 
kings.  This  question,  however,  was  settled  by  the 
arbitration  of  mutual  friends,  who  decided  that  the 
treaty  referred  merely  to  territory  in  the  Holy 
Land. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  factions  into  which 
the  Crusaders  were  divided  on  the  question  of  the 
right  to  the  throne  of  Jerusalem,  and  have  stated 
that  Richard  advocated  the  claims  of  Guy  of  Lusignan, 
and  Philip  those  of  his  competitor,  Marquis  Conrad. 
In  an  assembly  some  time  previous  to  the  surrender 
of  Acre,  convoked  to  decide  this  question,  which  was 


128  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  source  of  constant  bickerings  between  the  Christ- 
ians, Guy  charged  his  competitor  with  having  usurped 
the  rights,  and  made  free  use  of  the  treasury  of  a 
kingdom  to  which  he  had  no  claim.  Conrad  retorted 
that  he  had  only  exercised  his  legal  privileges  as  the 
king  by  right  of  his  wife  Isabella.  Harsh  words  and 
threats  of  violence  ensued,  and  the  brother  of  Guy, 
the  bold  Geoffrey  of  Lusignan,  took  up  the  quarrel, 
and,  denouncing  Conrad  as  a  perjured  traitor,  threw 
down  his  gauntlet  to  provoke  the  Marquis  to  a  trial 
of  arms.  Conrad  turned  away  from  the  proffered 
challenge  with  a  sneer  of  contempt,  as  it  did  not 
become  a  boasted  king  to  take  up  the  gauntlet  of  an 
inferior.  The  friends  of  the  Lusignans  pretended  to 
consider  the  conduct  of  Conrad  as  an  evidence  of 
cowardice,  and  some  of  them  began  to  taunt  him  as 
he  arose  to  leave  the  assembly.  Conrad,  who  was  a 
brave  man,  and  whose  contemptuous  disregard  of 
Geoffrey's  challenge  was  unquestionably  due  to  his 
sense  of  rank,  and  not  to  any  dastard  fear  of  the  con- 
sequences, left  the  Crusaders,  deeply  wounded  with 
the  insult  he  had  suffered,  and  proceeding  to  Tyre, 
remained  there  until  the  surrender  of  Acre  to  the 
Crusaders.  Now,  by  the  solicitation  of  his  warmly- 
attached  friend,  King  Philip  of  France,  he  returned, 
and  it  was  thought  expedient  to  settle  at  once  the 
much-vexed  question,  which  was  so  embarrassing  to 
the  action  of  the  Christian  forces.  Richard's  deter- 
mined will,  as  usual,  got  the  better  of  his  rival's 


The  French  King  Departs.  129 

easier  temper,  and  it  was  agreed  that  Guy  of  Lusig- 
nan  should  reign  during  his  life  as  king  of  Jerusalem ; 
but  as  a  compromise  of  the  claims  of  Conrad,  it  was 
settled  that  the  latter,  if  survivor,  or  his  children, 
should  succeed  to  the  throne  on  the  death  of  Guy. 

hi  the  mean  time,  the  revenues  of  the  realm  were 
to  be  equally  divided.  The  advantage  was  evidently 
on  the  side  of  Guy,  for  which  he  was  indebted  to  the 
overpowering  influence  of  his  great  advocate  Richard. 
Conrad,  however,  was  the  better  man,  and  if  merit, 
not  influence,  had  decided  the  question,  the  strong  and 
resolute  Conrad,  and  not  the  weak  and  vacillating 
Guy,  would  have  been  king  of  Jerusalem. 

The  French  king  now  came  to  a  resolution  which 
he  had  long  revolved  in  his  mind,  that  of  abandoning 
the  Crusade  and  returning  to  France.  Philip  could 
not  abide  the  superiority  of  his  great  rival,  who  did 
not,  perhaps,  bear  his  honors  as  meekly  as  he  might 
have  done.  Richard  was,  by  inherent  right  of  genius, 
the  leader  of  the  Crusades.  An  acknowledgment 
was  everywhere  expressed  of  his  supreme  qualities, 
as  the  great  warrior  of  the  age ;  and  the  English  king, 
conscious  of  his  own  power,  received  that  deference 
which  he  commanded  from  all  as  his  right.  King 
Philip's  envy  was  vexed  by  this  superiority,  and  the 
authoritative  air  with  which  it  was  borne.  An  old 
rhymester,  Robert  of  Gloucester,  quaintly  says  : 

"  So  that  King  Philip  was  annoyed  there  at  the  thing, 
That  there  was  not  of  him  a  word,  but  all  of  Richard  the  king." 
9 


130  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

The  French  king,  therefore,  coming  to  the  resolution 
to  depart,  announced  his  intention  to  Eichard,  who 
exclaimed  with  his  usual  impetuous  frankness,  which 
had  little  care  for  the  nice  turning  of  words,  or  the 
gentle  phrases  of  courtesy  :  "  The  king  of  France  is 
my  liege  lord,  but  I  am  bound  to  say  that  it  will  be 
an  eternal  disgrace  and  infamy  to  him,  if  he  leaves 
Palestine  before  he  has  accomplished  the  work  for 
the  sake  of  which  he  came  hither.  Nevertheless,  if 
he  feels  himself  infirm  and  weak,  or  fears  to  die  in  the 
Holy  Land,  let  him  go."  These  contemptuous 
words  in  regard  to  Philip's  weakness,  had  reference 
to  the  French  king's  plea  of  illness  which  he  had 
urged  as  an  excuse  for  his  departure. 

When  it  became  known  to  the  Crusaders  that 
Philip  was  resolved  to  abandon  their  cause,  they  were 
greatly  vexed,  and  his  desertion  was  considered  a  dis- 
grace to  France,  as  it  might  prove  a  serious  injury 
to  the  Crusade.  Supplications  and  entreaties  proved 
vain.  The  king  of  France  could  not  be  diverted 
from  an  act  which  he  had  long  pondered,  and  now 
determined  to  consummate.  All  the  Crusaders, 
with  the  exception  of  the  French,  considered  him  as 
an  unworthy  traitor  to  their  cause,  and  he  left  the 
Holy  Land  with  the  curse  of  every  true  soldier  of 
the  cross.  The  English  king,  suspecting  that  he 
might  harbor  a  concealed  purpose  of  attacking,  on 
his  return,  England  or  Normandy,  which  would  be  at 
his  mercy,  compelled  the  French  king  to  swear  sol- 


Quarrel  about  Prisoners.  131 

emnly  that  he  would  not  interfere  with  his  rights,  nor 
allow  any  interference  on  the  part  of  others,  during 
Richard's  absence. 

Philip,  to  keep  up  appearances  and  make  a  show 
of  some  sympathy  in  behalf  of  the  cause,  left  ten 
thousand  men  to  continue  the  Crusade.  The  Duke 
of  Burgundy,  a  brave  and  experienced  warrior,  was 
given  the  command  of  these  soldiers.  The  French 
king,  on  leaving  Acre,  set  sail  for  Tyre,  where  he 
remained  some  time  with  Conrad,  who  had  retired 
there,  as  we  have  already  seen,  in  disgust  at  the 
insulting  treatment  he  had  received  from  his  oppo- 
nents in  the  Christian  camp.  Philip  had  claimed 
one  half  of  the  Saracens  who  had  been  kept  as  host- 
ages for  the  fulfillment  of  the  treaty  with  Saladin, 
and  he  now  led  them  with  him  to  Tyre,  where  he  made 
them  over  to  Conrad.  Richard  was  vexed  at  this 
proceeding,  seeing  that  he  would  thus  be  prevented 
from  keeping  his  part  of  the  engagement  with  Saladin 
as  long  as  the  prisoners  were  not  in  his  power  to 
deliver  up  at  the  appointed  time ;  he  therefore  sum- 
moned Conrad  to  send  back  the  captives  without 
delay.  A  flat  refusal  was  the  only  answer  returned, 
and  Richard's  temper  was  so  greatly  disturbed  in 
consequence,  that  he  swore  h»  would  go  himself  to 
Tyre  and  bring  the  prisoners  by  force,  whether 
Conrad  liked  it  or  not.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
however,  interfered,  and  succeeded  in  having  the 
prisoners   delivered   up    to   him   in   behalf  of  the 


132  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

absent  Philip,  and  thus  the  Christians  were  saved 
the  farther  scandal  of  an  open  rupture  between 
themselves. 

Thirty  clays  of  the  forty  agreed  upon  for  the 
fulfillment  of  the  terms  of  the  treaty  between  the 
Crusaders  and  the  Saracens  had  now  passed,  and 
still  neither  holy  cross,  money,  nor  captives  came. 
Eichard  became  suspicious  of  the  delay,  and  accord- 
ingly,  within  ten  days  of  the  whole  time  allowed,  he 
convoked  an  .assembly  of  the  chief  officers  of  the 
Christian  forces,  in  which  it  was  resolved  that  the 
Saracen  hostages  should  be  destroyed. 

The  English  king  now  announced  these  resolutions 
to  Saladin,  reminding  him  that  he  had  only  ten  days 
left  for  the  fulfillment  of  his  pledges,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  his  subjects  from  death.  The  Sultan  answered, 
"  If  a  hair  of  any  of  my  men  be  harmed,  I  will  cut  off 
the  head  of  every  Christian  in  my  power."  Eichard 
waited  four  days,  and  obtaining  no  satisfaction  as 
yet  to  his  demands,  he  drew  out  his  forces  from 
within  the  walls  of  Acre  and  encamped  them  in  a 
position  threatening  the  Sultan.  The  latter  sent  the 
English  king  on  that  day  some  magnificent  presents, 
and  solicited  a  postponement  of  the  time  appointed 
for  the  ransom  of  the  Saracen  hostages  ;  but  Eichard 
would  listen  to  no  propositions  of  the  kind,  and  sent 
back  Saladin's  messengers  and  his  presents  with  word 
to  the  Sultan,  that  every  Turk  in  the  hands  of  the 
Christians  should  pay  the  forfeit  of  his  life  on  the 


The  Two  Massacres.  133 

twentieth  of  August,  the  day  appointed,  if  every  letter 
of  the  treaty  was  not  fulfilled  to  the  utmost,  within  a 
minute  of  the  time  specified.  Saladin  no  sooner 
received  this  message  than  he  dragged  out  the  Christ- 
ian captives  in  front  of  his  encampment,  and  in  full 
view  of  their  brethren  and  countrymen  in  the  army 
of  the  Crusaders,  and  ordered  them  to  be  beheaded, 
which  bloody  command  was  instantaneously  obeyed. 
The  Crusaders,  aroused  to  fury  by  this  cruel  butchery, 
sprang  to  arms  on  the  instant,  and  rushed  upon 
the  Saracens,  eager  to  avenge  their  murdered  fellow- 
Christians.  The  Saracens  were,  however,  well  pre- 
pared for  the  onset,  and  neither  seemed  to  gain 
the  advantage,  and  defended  themselves  so  valiantly 
that  the  struggle  was  continued  until  brought  to  a  close 
by  the  darkness  of  the  coming  night.  The  Crusa- 
ders now  glutted  their  revenge  in  the  blood  of  their 
Saracen  captives.  Five  thousand  Turks  were  led 
out  beyond  the  walls  of  the  city,  and  three  thousand 
being  claimed  by  Richard  as  his  victims,  over  whom 
he  had  the  right  of  death,  and  two  thousand  by  the 
Duke  of  Burgandy,  these  brave  warriors  of  the  cross 
proceeded  in  cold  blood  to  cut  off  the  head  of  each 
Turk,  so  that  there  was  not  a  single  life  spared. 
Nor  were  the  Christians  satisfied  with  the  lives  of 
their  infidel  enemy,  but,  voraciously  pouncing  upon 
the  headless  bodies  and  ripping  up  the  bellies, 
fumbled  among  the  entrails  in  search  of  gold  and 
silver  that  had  been  swallowed,  and  of  which  they 


134  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

found  a  goodly  store,   and   tore  out  the  galls  for 
medicinal  uses. 

It  was  no  great  stretch,  then,  for  the  imagination 
of  an  old  poet  to  describe  the  Crusaders  as  so  many 
cannibals,  hungering  for  the  flesh  and  thirsting  for 
the  blood  of  the  Turk,  and  voraciously  gratifying 
their  appetites  for  that  infidel  fare.  The  Gests  of 
Richard  Cmir  de  Lion,  an  old  "  romaunt"  in  rhyme, 
describes  the  English  king  as  being  particularly  fond 
of  Saracens  served  up  in  various  ways,  boiled,  roasted, 
stewed,  or  fried.  Once  upon  a  time,  according  to 
the  imaginative  author  of  this  old  romance,  Richard, 
having  fallen  grievously  ill,  which  brought  him  near  to 
death,  continued  for  a  long  time  barely  showing  any 
signs  of  life,  until  at  last,  as  a  first  evidence  of 
improvement,  he  awoke  with  an  intense  longing  for 
pork.  No  pork  could  be  had  in  all  Palestine,  so  an 
old  knight  who  dearly  loved  the  king,  and  had  clung 
to  his  bed-side  night  and  day,  was  resolved  upon 
gratifying  his  lord  and  master  at  all  hazards. 
Accordingly,  the  kind  old  gentleman  goes  to  the 
steward,  and  telling  him  of  the  straits  he  was  in, 
how  the  king  was  sick  and  longed  for  pork,  and 
how  scarce  the  article  was,  there  being  none  to 
be  had  for  love  or  money,  and  adding,  that  if  any 
man  should  venture  to  state  the  fact  to  the  sick 
Richard  he  would  lose  his  head  for  his  pains, 
ingeniously  proposed  a  substitute :  "  Catch,"  said 
the  knight  to  the  steward,  "a  Saracen,  young  and 


King  Richard  a  Cannibal.  135 

fat,  let  the  thief  be  slain  in  haste,  then  open,  and 
his  hide  skinned  off,  and  when  the  carcase  has  been 
well  peppered  and  spiced,  allow  it  to  soak  for  awhile 
and  then  serve  up."  The  order  was  no  sooner  given 
than  obeyed.  "  Slain  and  sodden  was  the  heathen 
stew,"  poetically  remarks  the  ancient  poet,  and  the 
repast  duly  served  up.  The  "  king  ate  the  flesh  and 
gnew  the  bones,"  continues  the  enthusiastic  rhapso- 
dist,  and  when  he  had  eaten  enough,  Richard  turned 
over  and  slept, 

"And  became  whole  and  sound." 

The  king  had  been  kept  in  the  dark  in  regard  to 
the  Saracen  substitute  for  pork,  but  the  steward  was 
finally  obliged  to  come  to  a  confession.  Richard's 
appetite  soon  awakened  again,  and  he  ordered  the 
head  of  the  animal  he  had  already  so  much  enjoyed. 
"  Bring  me  the  head  !"  cried  the  impetuous  monarch. 
"  I  have  not  got  it,"  replied  the  cook.  The  king  in 
a  rage  resumes : 

"  But  I  see  the  head  of  that  swine, 
Forsooth  thou  shalt  losen  thine." 

The  steward  had  no  other  alternative  but  to  bring 
the  Saracen's  head  with 

"  His  black  beard  and  white  teeth." 

Richard  exclaimed,  "What  the  devil  is  this?"  and, 
instead  of  being  angry,  quietly  remarked  that  he  wa9 
surprised  to  find  Saracen  so  good,  and  had  the  dish 


136  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

set  down  at  once  in  the  regular  allowance,  and  it 
became  a  favorite  article  of  diet  with  the  Crusaders 
generally,  and  the  king  particularly. 

There  is  more  truth  in  the  old  rhyming  chronicler's 
cannibal  imaginings,  than  in  many  a  more  sober  page 
of  history.  Fiction,  though  deemed  a  frivolous  thing, 
often  gives  us  a  better  insight  into  the  motives  and 
conduct  of  men  than  the  solid,  dry  record  of  bare 
fact.  The  light  weathercock  on  the  top  of  the  house 
has  its  usages,-  as  well  as  the  solid  structure  below  j 
as  we  see  by  the  former  how  the  wind  blows,  we 
know  when  to  take  refuge  from  the  storm  in  the 
latter. 

The  conduct  of  the  Saracens  and  Crusaders  in  this 
mutual  slaughter  of  prisoners,  was  of  an  atrocity  be- 
yond the  power  of  mere  words  to  picture  in  all  its 
wicked  horror,  and  to  denounce  as  its  wickedness 
merits.  No  one  wrho  bears  a  human  heart,  but  will 
shrink  from  the  frightful  scene  of  blood,  and  the  sense 
of  justice  of  all  good  men  will  instinctively  condemn 
the  cruel  actors  as  guilty  of  the  crime  of  murder. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"TV TOW  that  the  Crusaders  were  in  possession  ol 
J_\  Acre,  they  were  loth  to  depart.  They  had 
found  a  resting-place,  where  they  might  refresh  thern 
selves  after  their  long  labors  and  painful  struggles. 
They  had  exchanged  the  fatiguing  duties  and  the  rude 
life  of  the  camp  for  the  easy  routine  occupation  of  a 
fortified  town  and  the  luxurious  delights  of  a  large 
city.  The  comforts  of  the  spacious  and  well- 
appointed  mansions,  the  abundant  stores  of  wine,  and 
the  society  of  the  beautiful  Turkish  women,  were 
enjoyments  which  the  crusading  warriors  appreciated 
with  a  fullness  of  delight  that  the  rarity  and  the 
brief  indulgence  highly  augmented.     • 

It  was  not  surprising,  then,  that  these  impulsive 
soldiers  should  have  steeped  themselves  in  the 
pleasures  of  the  city,  that  they  should  have  indolently 
lingered  within  their  houses,  in  the  company  of  the 
warmly-cornplexioncd  oriental  beauties,  or  have 
lengthened  out  their  banquets  with  endless  draughts 
of  the  luscious  wines  of  the  East. 

The  most  veteran  knights,  whose  sinews  had  been 
toughened  in  many  an  encounter,  and  character  tern- 


138  The  Lion-Hearted  King, 

pered  by  the  discipline  and  trials  of  warfare,  yielded 
to  temptation,  as  well  as  the  tender  youth,  whose 
elastic  limbs  had  not  yet  been  moulded  and  stiffened 
to  his  armor,  and  whose  unresisting  disposition  read- 
ily gave  way  to  the  seductions  of  pleasure. 

City  life  had  produced  a  perceptible  change  in  the 
very  looks  of  the  Crusaders.  The  bronze  complexion 
became  bleached  from  retirement  within  the  shades 
of  the  house,  or  of  a  rubicund  glow,  from  too  much 
indulgence  in  wine.  The  vigorous,  muscular  frame 
of  the  warrior  degenerated  into  the  fat  and  bloated 
figure  of  the  good-liver.  The  knights  would  seldom 
put  on  their  armor,  as  if  the  weight  was  too  burthen- 
some  to  bear ;  and  every  martial  exercise  in  which 
they  once  delighted,  was  now  turned  away  from  with 
a  languid  dislike,  and  a  refuge  sought  in  indolence 
and  pleasure. 

Eichard  became  aware  of  the  necessity  of  arous- 
ing the  Crusaders  from  their  dangerous  inactivity. 
Although  the  king's  warm  impulses  made  him  as 
eager  in  the  delights  of  peace  as  he  was  impetu- 
ous in  the  pursuits  of  war,  he  was  never  so  lap- 
ped in  the  former  as  to  forget  the  claims  of  the 
latter.  He  saw  that  any  further  delay  would  so 
far  weaken  the  character  of  the  Crusaders,  as  to  ren- 
der them  unwilling,  if  not  unable  to  cope  with  the 
Turks,  and  that  thus  the  great  cause  of  the  cross 
would  be  hopelessly  abandoned,  and  the  Crusaders 
themselves,  perhaps,  prostrated   at  the  feet  of  the 


The  Crusaders  March.  139 

merciless  Saracen.     Richard  accordingly  determined 
to  march  out  of  the  seductive  and  dangerous  city. 

After  the  English  king  had  repaired  the  breaches 
in  the  walls  which  had  been  made  by  the  successive 
assaults  of  the  Crusaders,  and  left  a  sufficient  force  to 
garrison  the  city,  he  departed  from  Acre  with  a  large 
force.  He  had  no  little  difficulty,  however,  in  tearing 
away  his  knights  from  the  delights  of  the  town,  but 
succeeded,  finally,  by  alternate  threats  and  promises. 
Richard  feared  the  influence  of  the  gentle  sex  upon 
his  impulsive  followers  more  than  any  other  tempta- 
tion, and  he  accordingly  forbid  any  woman  to  follow 
the  army,  and,  by  way  of  example  would  not  allow 
either  Queen  Berengaria,  his  sister  Joan,  the  princess 
of  Cyprus,  or,  in  fact,  any  of  the  sex  to  accompany 
him. 

It  was  on  the  27th  of  August  that  the  Crusaders 
began  their  march.  Thirty  thousand  men  was  the 
full  force  which  Richard  led  out  to  continue  his 
conquests  in  the  Holy  Land.  The  Knights  Templars 
formed  the  vanguard  of  this  gallant  army,  in  which 
Christians  of  every  country  served  to  fill  up  the  ranks, 
and  the  Knights  of  St.  John  brought  up  the  rear.  The 
English  king  himself  assumed  the  command,  and 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  was  second  to  the  brave 
Richard.  Saladin  was  on  the  alert  with  his  Saracen 
force,  which  greatly  outnumbered  that  of  the  Christ- 
ians, and  he  pursued  a  system  of  warfare  which 
proved  very  embarrassing  to  the  crusading  army. 


140  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Following  at  some  distance  with  his  main  body,  the 
Sultan  would  send  out  an  occasional  scouting  force  to 
observe  the  movements  of  the  enemy,  and,  watching 
his  chance,  pounced  upon  any  stragglers  he  could  catch. 
The  march  of  Richard  was  along  the  sea-shore  to  the 
south,  and  as  he  pursued  his  tortuous  course,  the 
scouts  of  the  Saracen  might  be  observed  on  the  look- 
out from  some  turn  in  the  road  or  pass  hi  the  moun- 
tains. As  the  Turks  were  familiar  with  the  country, 
and  could  trust  to  the  mettle  of  their  swift  Arab 
horses,  these  scouts  often  ventured  quite  close  to  the 
Christian  army,  and  could  bear  back  to  Saladin  the 
most  minute  detail  of  the  march.  The  English  king 
was  wary  in  his  movements,  and,  knowing  that  he 
was  watched  by  his  active  enemy,  ordered  his  men 
into  close  ranks,  and  expressly  guarded  against  any 
straggling,  knowing  that  whoever  should  be  left  in 
the  rear  would  certainly  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
Saracens,  and  be  dealt  with  without  mercy.  As  long 
as  the  road  continued  tolerably  straight  and  wide, 
every  man  of  the  Christian  forces  remained  in  safety ; 
but  now  they  reached  a  crooked  and  narrow  path 
through  a  mountain  pass,  along  winch  they  were 
obliged  to  defile  in  a  long  line,  and  the  van  of  the 
army  was  concealed  from  the  rear  by  a  turn  in  the 
road.  The  Saracen,  always  on  the  alert,  now  saw  his 
chance  and  eagerly  caught  at  it.  Richard,  who  was 
in  front,  was  allowed  to  pass  unattached ;  but  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  commanded  the  rear,  was 


The  Dangers  of  the  March.  141 

not  so  fortunate.  A  large  body  of  Saracens  suddenly- 
sprung  upon  him  from  a  mountain  fastness,  and  the 
Duke,  encumbered  with  the  baggage,  laboring  on  and 
struggling  with  difficulty  through  the  rough  and  nar- 
row road,  was  ill-prepared  for  the  fierce  onslaught. 
The  guard  which  had  charge  of  the  baggage  was 
dashed  to  the  ground,  and  the  Saracens  plundered 
without  resistance.  Those  Christians  who  were 
somewhat  in  advance,  hearing  the  cries  of  the  wounded 
guard,  hurried  back  to  the  scene  and  were  soon  engaged 
in  a  fierce  encounter  with  the  Turks ;  but  the  latter, 
well-mounted  and  fresh,  had  greatly  the  advantage. 
Richard  was  too  far  hi  advance  to  come  to  the  rescue 
at  this  serious  juncture  of  affairs,  but  the  brave  knight 
William  de  Barres  soon  joined  the  affray  and  suc- 
ceeded, by  his  courage  and  gallant  conduct,  in  keeping 
off  the  fierce  Saracens  until  the  king  himself,  with 
his  brave  men,  coidd  ride  up.  The  Saracens  fled  at 
the  sight  of  the  mighty  Richard,  and  the  army  was 
allowed  to  continue  its  march  undisturbed.  Richard 
had  had  a  trial  of  strength  with  William  de  Barres, 
while  in  Messina,  and,  after  a  long-continued  hand' 
and-hand  struggle,  not  succeeding  in  unhorsing  this 
powerful  knight,  had,  very  king-like,  taken  umbrage 
at  his  bold  opponent's  audacity  in  proving  himself 
equal  to  a  royal  competitor.  Richard,  who  had  a 
generous  soul,  now  forgave  William  de  Barres,  and 
graciously  acknowledged  his  bravery  and  good  service 
in  the  dangerous  emergency  just  passed ;  and  from 


142  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

that  day  the  king  sought  every  opportunity,  by  kind 
word  and  friendly  act,  to  compensate  the  knight  for 
his  past  want  of  generosity. 

The  army  continued  its  march.  The  Christians 
never  forgot,  in  their  toilsome  and  dangerous  pro- 
gress, the  great  purpose  for  which  they  struggled. 
Their  enthusiasm  never  flagged,  but  they  underwent 
every  labor,  and  faced  every  danger,  sustained  by 
their  religious  faith  and  the  belief  that  they  were 
obeying  the  precepts  of  Christianity  and  adding  to 
the  glory  of  God.  We  do  not  learn  that  the  Christ- 
ians, notwithstanding  the  sincerity  of  their  opinions, 
were  very  devotional  in  their  practices,  but  a  habit 
prevailed  in  the  army,  which  showed  that  some  form 
of  public  acknowledgment  of  the  religious  purposes 
of  their  warfare  was  kept  up.  Whenever  the  army 
halted,  all  the  heralds  simultaneously  shouted  in  a 
loud  voice,  for  three  successive  times,  "  Save  the 
Holy  Sepulchre!"  at  which  every  Christian  through- 
out the  army  bowed  his  knee  and  responded,  "Amen!' 
This  was  certainly  a  very  brief  form  of  prayer,  but 
we  have  no  doubt  it  was  quite  earnest  as  far  as  it 
went. 

Although  the  enemy  kept  hovering  about  the  rear, 
watching  an  opportunity  to  take  the  Christians  off 
their  guard,  the  latter  became  so  circumspect  that  the 
army  reached  Caiaphas  without  an  attack.  The 
course  was  still  to  the  south,  along  the  coast  of  Syria. 
The  English  fleet  sailed  down  along  with  the  army, 


Suffering  of  Soldiers.  143 

on  its  light  flank,  hugging  the  shore  close  that  it 
might  always  be  in  sight  and  at  hand,  while  Saladin 
marched  his  forces  on  the  left,  keeping  pretty  well 
in  the  interior.  The  next  point  to  which  the  Crusa- 
ders directed  their  march  was  Coesarea,  about  forty 
miles  to  the  south  of  Acre,  although  the  tortuous 
road  which  they  were  forced  to  take  in  consequence 
of  the  irregularity  of  the  coast,  and  the  frequent 
circuits  they  were  compelled  to  make  from  the  pro- 
jecting spurs  of  the  mountains,  increased  that  distance 
fourfold.  The  soldiers  suffered  greatly  during  the 
journey.  The  hot  climate  of  the  country  was  espe- 
cially trying  to  northern  constitutions,  and,  as  the 
march  was  generally  on  the  shore,  where  the  men 
were  exposed  to  the  direct  rays  of  a  southern  sun, 
reflected  back,  in  all  their  intensity  of  heat,  by  the 
yellow  sand,  the  suffering  was  intense.  As  the  army 
was  constantly  exposed  to  the  attacks  of  Saladin, 
who  eagerly  watched  every  occasion  for  harassing 
the  Christians,  it  behooved  them  not  to  abate  a  jot 
in  discipline  and  military  exactitude.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  the  men  could  not  seek  relief  in 
straggling  at  their  ease,  and  in  putting  off  the  heavy 
armor,  which  was  a  load  hard  to  bear  at  any  time, 
but  especially  galling  in  the  excessive  fatigue  of  a  hot 
march.  When  the  soldiers  sought  a  refuge  from  the 
sun,  which  glared  angrily  upon  them  on  the  beach, 
within  the1  shade  of  the  trees  which  lined  the  inner 
margin  of  the  shore,  they  proceeded  with  great  difn- 


144  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

culty  in  consequence  of  the  matted  vines  and  close 
undergrowth  which  grew  in  such  luxurious  abundance 
in  that  prolific  soil,  and  hindered  their  steps,  and 
exposed  them  to  attack  without  power  of  resistance. 
The  soldiers  submitted  to  the  heat  in  preference  to 
being  entangled,  delayed,  and  fatigued  by  the  slow 
and  toilsome  progress  in  the  woods.  At  night,  too, 
when  no  longer  suffering  from  the  heat,  they  were 
worried  by  another  and  no  less  troublesome  annoy- 
ance. Large  and  venomous  ants  and  other  insects 
abounded,  and  their  bites,  almost  imperceptible  at 
first,  soon  inflamed  and  turned  into  large  ulcers  from 
their  poisonous  virulence.  The  Crusaders,  however, 
bore  up  under  all  this  complication  of  fatigue,  pain, 
and  annoyance  with  wonderful  endurance,  and  pa- 
tiently submitted  to  all  the  severe  military  discipline 
to  which  they  were  subjected,  and  which,  although 
necessary  for  their  security,  was  hardly  endurable  to 
the  most  patient,  under  the  trying  circumstances  of 
that  painful  march. 

On  the  arrival  of  Richard  at  Ccesarea,  he  found 
that  the  Turks  had  stolen  a  march  upon  him,  and  had 
levelled  the  fortifications  and  destroyed  a  portion  of 
the  city  with  fire.  The  king  accordingly  encamped 
on  the  banks  of  the  Crocodile  river,  a  name,  the 
appropriateness  of  which  he  had  sad  reason  to  acknow- 
ledge, for,  on  the  first  night  of  the  encampment,  two 
of  his  soldiers,  venturing  into  the  water,  were  seized 
by  a  crocodile  and  immediately  devoured. 


Devastation  by  Saracens.  145 

The  fleet,  which  had  sailed  down  the  coast  as 
Richard  marched  along  the  shore,  now  came  to 
anchor.  The  ships  had  been  freighted  with  stores 
for  the  army,  and,  as  the  Crusaders  obtained  but  few 
supplies  during  their  march,  there  was  need  of  all 
they  had  and  more.  Richard  accordingly,  having 
discharged  the  stores,  sent  back  some,  of  the  vessels 
to  Acre  for  fresh  supplies  of  men  and  provisions. 
The  Saracens,  in  their  progress  through  the  country, 
burned  the  towns  and  smallest  villages,  and  laid 
waste  every  field  and  vineyard,  carrying  off  the  pro- 
duce and  driving  away  the  cattle,  so  the  Christians 
found  themselves  in  a  desert  land,  and  were  forced  to 
rely  almost  entirely  upon  their  own  stores  for  sup- 
plies. This  was  a  serious  embarrassment  to  Richard, 
and  adds  another  to  the  many  difficulties  of  the  expe- 
dition, which  increases  our  admiration  for  the  mar- 
vellous capacity  of  that  great  king  who  could  over- 
come all  and  bring  his  plans  to  a  triumphant  issue. 

The  camp  of  the  Crusaders  was  much  annoyed  by 
the  Saracen  army,  which  had  accompanied  them,  at  a 
safe  distance  throughout  the  whole  route.  Saladin's 
forces  now  approached  with  more  boldness,  as  they 
had  been  greatly  reinforced  by  additional  troops,  and 
supposed  Richard's  army  was  worn  out  and  disheart- 
ened by  their  fatiguing  march,  and  weakened  by  want 
of  nourishment,  in  consequence  of  straitened  supplies 
of  food. 

The  Crusaders  broke  up  their  camp  at  Cassarea 
10* 


146  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

and  pushed  on  to  Jaffa,  the  Joppa  mentioned  in 
the  Bible.  The  Saracens  also  marched,  clinging  as 
before,  to  the  flank  of  the  Christians.  Frequent 
skirmishes  ensued  between  detached  parties  of  both 
armies.  On  one  of  these  occasions  a  bold  Turkish 
leader,  who  had  the  high  rank  of  an  emir  under  the 
Sultan,  led  a  skirmishing  detachment,  and  bore  down 
upon  a  portion  of  the  English  force.  A  fleet  Arab 
carried  him  in  advance  of  his  men,  and  he  came 
down  with  his  turbaned  head  towering  high  above 
his  horse,  for  his  stature  was  gigantic,  and  with  his 
immense  spear,  double  the  size  of  the  ordinary  lance, 
poised  in  his  strong  arm  as  if  he  would  overwhelm 
in  his  impetuous  course  all  that  opposed  him.  The. 
Christian  knights  prepared  for  the  charge,  and  met 
the  onset  so  resistingly  with  their  closed  ranks  that 
horse  and  rider  were  overthrown  in  the  shock,  and 
the  mighty  emir,  prostrated  on  the  ground,  was  slain 
without  mercy.  Thus  fell  one  of  the  bravest  and 
most  formidable  of  Saladin's  officers.  He  was  a 
tower  of  strength  in  himself,  from  his  immense  height, 
proportionate  strength,  and  impetuous  courage. 
When  the  troops,  which  were  following,  saw  their 
great  leader  biting  the  dust,  they  turned  their  reins 
and  fled  swiftly  away.  It  was  foolhardiness  for  the 
Saracen  horsemen,  whose  limbs  were  not  protected 
by  armor,  and  who  were  forced  to  depend  entirely 
upon  their  personal  strength,  skill,  and  agility  in  the 
saddle,  and  the  swiftness  of  their  steeds,  to  venture 


Diet  of  Horse-Flesh.  147 

upon  a  charge  against  a  well-serried  rank  of  knights, 
full  clad  in  steel,  and  intently  on  their  guard.  The 
mighty  Saracen,  rashly  trusting  to  his  great 
strength,  had  thus  fallen  a  victim  to  his  disregard  of 
the  superiority  of  a  knight  full  cased  in  armor 
over  an  unmailed  warrior. 

The  march  of  the  Crusaders,  who  were  obliged  to 
leave  the  shore  from  the  obstructions,  was  now 
through  a  desert  country  affording  no  supplies  for 
themselves  nor  pasture  for  their  horses.  The 
soldiers  and  the  cavalry  suffered  severely  from  the 
want  of  water.  Many  of  the  horses  died  in  conse- 
quence, and  such  was  the  famished  condition  of  the 
men,  that  the  dead  carcases  were  greedily  pounced 
upon  and  voraciously  devoured.  In  truth,  such  was 
the  eager  hunger  of  the  men,  that  they  fought  des- 
perately with  each  other  for  the  dead  animals.  The 
king  was  obliged  to  interfere,  and  proclaimed  that  a 
live  horse  would  be  given  to  every  man  who  yielded 
up  his  dead  one  for  the  common  good.  Horse-flesh, 
now  from  necessity,  was  the  main  article  of  diet ; 
and  one  of  the  old  chroniclers  who  records  this  fact, 
quaintly  says,  "  that  it  was  not  only  tolerable  food 
in  itself,  but  with  hunger  for  a  sauce,  quite  delicious/' 
The  Saracens  continued  throughout  to  harass  the 
Christians,  and  from  their  familiarity  with  the 
country  were  enabled  to  hide  themselves  in  ambus- 
cades among  the  clefts  and  passes  of  the  neighboring 
hills,  from  which  they  would  sally  out,  and,  discharg- 


148  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

ing  their  arrows,  immediately  retire  to  their  hiding- 
places  in  security.  The  horsemen  in  the  rear  were 
the  principal  sufferers,  but  Richard  himself,  who  was 
dashing  along  his  army  on  its  march,  everywhere 
cheering  on  Ms  men,  was  wounded  by  an  arrow  in 
his  side.  It  is  recorded  that  so  incessant  was  the 
discharge  of  the  bows  of  the  Saracens,  and  so  enor- 
mous the  fall  of  arrows,  that  there  was  not  a  spot  of 
four  feet  uncovered  by  these  missiles.  The  Christian 
army  finding  a  stream,  the  water  of  which,  however, 
turned  out  to  be  saltish  and  distasteful,  halted  at  the 
side  of  it,  and  spreading  their  tents,  encamped  there 
for  two  whole  days. 

In  the  mean  time  nothing  was  seen  of  the  Saracens, 
and  the  Crusaders  were  entirely  relieved  from  that 
annoying  system  of  warfare  that  had  been  pursued 
throughout  the  whole  march.  Richard,  anxious  to 
learn  what  had  become  of  the  enemy,  sent  out  scouts 
in  every  direction  to  see  if  they  could  discover  bis 
whereabouts  and  the  disposition  he  was  making  of 
his  forces.  The  scouts  returned  with  the  informa- 
tion that  Saladin  was  encamped  with  his  whole 
army  on  an  extensive  plain  near  Assur,  and  that  he 
was  evidently  awaiting  the  coming  up  of  Richard. 
This  intelligence  was  received  with  great  joy  by 
the  Crusaders,  as  they  desired  to  measure  their 
strength  with  the  great  Saladin  in  a  pitched  battle. 
They  looked  forward  to  the  occasion  with  perfect 
confidence   as  to.  the  result,   although  the  enemy's 


Preparations  for  Battle.  149 

numbers  far  outreached  their  own.  The  Christians, 
all  told,  did  not  amount  to  over  thirty  thousand, 
while  the  Turks  formed,  according  to  all  accounts, 
at  least  three  hundred  thousand.  The  Crusaders, 
however,  sustained  by  their  religious  enthusiasm, 
and  trusting  to  the  skillful  leadership  of  their  bold 
Richard,  were  ready  to  fight  at  any  odds,  and  believed 
victory,  with  such  a  cause  and  such  a  leader,  as  sure 
an  event  as  the  coming  sun. 

Orders  were  given  throughout  the  camp  to  make 
ready  for  the  great  battle  on  the  morrow,  and  the 
humblest  soldier,  equally  with  the  most  noble  knight, 
eagerly  desired  that  the  night  might  speed,  and  the 
day  arrive  on  which  he  could  strike  a  blow  for  God 
and  victory. 

At  an  early  hour,  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of 
September,  in  the  year  1191,  the  camp  of  the  Crusa-, 
ders  was  alive  with  busy  preparations  for  a  march. 
The  whole  army  was  astir  under  the  influence  evi- 
dently of  some  unusual  emotion.  There  was  an  intent- 
ness  and  alacrity  in  the  performance  of  duty  by  each 
man  which  betokened  more  than  the  ordinary  motive 
for  earnest  effort.  The  officers  were  rapidly  galloping 
to  and  fro  about  the  camp,  minutely  inspecting  the 
condition  of  every  department,  and  eagerly  inquiring 
into  the  state  of  each  man  and  his  appointments, 
while  the  soldiers  were  hard  at  work  putting  in  order 
their  arms  and  equipments.  The  lancers  brightened 
their  spears  and  sharpened  the  points  with  careful 


150  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

precision  ;  the  bowmen  twanged  their  bows  to  test 
their  elasticity  or  the  tension  of  the  cord,  and  each 
knight  carefully  inspected  every  buckle  and  joint  in 
his  own  or  his  horse's  armor.  Expectation  was  alive, 
and  preparation  busy,  for  with  the  opening  of  the 
day  had  come  the  prospect  of  a  great  battle,  and 
the  morning's  sun  that  had  risen  in  heavenly  glory 
might  set  in  a  sea  of  blood.  The  Crusaders  were 
about  to  march  against  Saladin  and  his  army,  and 
test  for  the  first  time  on  a  fair  field,  whether  victory 
belonged  to  the  Crescent  or  the  Cross. 

King  Richard  had  been  busy  from  the  earliest 
dawn,  and  had  ridden  the  wide  circuit  of  his  whole 
army  again  and  again,  looking  into  the  smallest 
detail  of  equipment  and  preparation,  and  giving  the 
most  comprehensive  orders  for  the  conduct  of  the 
day.  Like  all  great  leaders,  his  mind  was  not  above 
the  minutiae  of  practical  business,  as  it  was  equal  to 
the  widest  scope  of  thought. 

The  trumpets  now  sounded  to  arms,  and  every 
heart  in  that  brave  army  beat  in  sympathy  with  the 
martial  blast.  The  lion-hearted  king  then  drew  up 
his  forces  and  disposed  them  thus :  In  the  van 
marched  the  Knight  Templars  commanded  by  the* 
Grand-Master,  Robert  de  Sablay.  The  centre  of  the 
main  body  the  king  reserved  for  himself  and  his 
well-tried  veterans  of  England  and  Normandy.  On 
the  right  he  placed  the  Danes,  the  Hollanders,  and 
men  of  Brabant  under  the  command  of  the  efficient 


Plan  of  Operations.  151 

James  d'Avesnes,  while  on  the  left  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  and  Leopold  of  Austria  led  the  French 
and  German  troops.  The  rear  was  composed  of  the 
Knight  Hospitallers. 

King  Richard  now  gave  the  order  to  march,  and 
as  he.  proceded  and  approached  within  sight  of  the 
enemy,  eager  for  the  great  contest,  he  observed  a 
movement  in  their  ranks,  and  it  was  soon  evident 
that  Saladin  was  withdrawing  his  forces  from  their 
position  on  the  plain.  The  multitudinous  Turkish 
army  moved  like  a  great  cloud  toward  the  hills,  as 
if  dispersing  before  the  coming  sun,  and  Richard 
began  to  suspect  that  Saladin  intended  to  pursue  his 
old  tactics  of  hanging  upon  his  flanks  and  annoying 
him  with  that  skirmishing  warfare  from  which  the 
Crusaders  had  already  so  greatly  suffered.  The 
king  was  resolved  upon  preventing  this  movement 
of  the  Saracens,  and  his  plan  was  to  continue  his 
march,  apparently  unmindful  of  the  harassing  attack 
of  the  detached  squadrons,  until  Saladin,  emboldened 
by  this  manoeuvre  of  non-resistance,  should  bring 
most  of  his  forces  to  bear  where  Richard  would  be 
ready  to  strike  a  blow  and  force  the  enemy  into  a 
general  action.  The  Saracens,  as  they  moved  from 
the  plain,  assumed  the  form  of  a  crescent,  and 
evidently  intended,  from  their  position,  to  bear  down 
upon  the  left  wing.  The  king,  observing  the  man- 
oeuvre, sent  a  detachment  of  his  most  trusty  forces, 
under  the  command  of  his  nephew,  the  Count  of 


152  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Champagne,  to  strengthen  this  wing,  as  he  was  doubt- 
ful of  the  French,  and  suspected  the  fidelity  of  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy  who  was  at  their  head.  Eichard, 
in  order  to  .bring  to  a  successful  result  his  plan,  strictly 
ordered  that  no  attack  should  be  made  until  two 
blasts  of  the  trumpet,  which  were  to  be  sounded  in 
each  division  of  the  army,  were  heard,  which  was  to 
be  the  signal  for  the  engagement  to  begin.  Whatever 
might  be  the  provocation  from  the  enemy,  this  order 
was  to  be  obeyed  at  all  hazards,  for  the  success  of 
the  day  depended  upon  its  faithful  observance.  The 
army  moved  on,  slowly  and  deliberately,  each  man 
anxiously  watching  the  enemy,  who  moved  in  dark 
masses  on  the  acclivity  of  the  hills,  and  threatened 
like  a  coming  storm  ready  to  burst  in  fury  from 
the  black  clouds  in  which  it  is  imprisoned. 

The  Saracens  now  halted  for  a  moment,  as  if 
gathering  for  a  charge,  and  rushed  down  m  an 
impetuous  torrent  toward  the  left  of  the  Crusaders. 
A  body  of  some  ten  thousand  Turkish  horsemen, 
giving  full  rein  to  their  horses,  and  poising  their  spears, 
led  this  attack,  and,  discharging  their  weapons  into 
the  close  Christian  ranks,  wheeled  to  the  right  and  left, 
opening  the  way  for  the  Bedouin  Arabs,  the  most 
expert  bowmen  of  the  Saracen  army,  who  sent  a 
shower  of  arrows  which  greatly  annoyed  the  Crusa- 
ders and  destroyed  many  of  their  horses.  These 
sharp-shooters  continued  to  harass  the  left  wing. 
The  Saracen  cavalry,  coming  down  in  increased  force, 


Battle  of  Assur  Begins.  153 

bore  against  the  rear  and  the  right.  The  ranks  of 
Richard  kept  in  close  array,  forming  a  solid  phalanx, 
which  moved  over  the  field  in  a  slow,  compact 
march,  and  in  accordance  with  the  order  of  their 
great  leader,  shaking  off  with  admirable  coolness, 
and  not  venturing  a  blow  in  return,  the  attacks  of 
the  enemy,  who  hovered  about  the  solid  body  of 
Crusaders  with  their  lances  and  arrows,  like  myriads 
of  flies  thickening  the  atmosphere,  and  darkening  the 
light,  and  striving  by  their  irritating  stings  to  drive 
some  noble  animal  to  fury. 

Saladin  finding  that  his  skirmishing  squadrons 
could  make  no  serious  impression  upon  the  close  and 
well-disciplined  ranks  of  the  Christians,  whose  com- 
pactness was  such,  says  an  historian  of  the  times, 
that  an  apple  falling  among  them  would  have  been 
sure  to  strike  either  man  or  horse,  he  prepared  to 
make  an  onset  himself.  Accordingly,  calling  back 
his  skirmishers,  which  were  baying  like  an  endless 
pack  of  eager  hounds  about  the  flanks  of  the  Crusa- 
ders, and  gathering  together  the  whole  force  of  his 
cavalry,  led  them  to  the  attack  in  person.  The  Sul- 
tan, surrounded  by  his  emirs  and  the  flower  of  the 
Moslem  warriors,  came  on  in  full  speed,  followed  by 
an  immense  troop  of  horse,  and  drove  right  down 
upon  the  rear  of  the  Christian  army,  plunging  their 
spurs  into  their  horses'  flanks  as  if  urging  the  noble 
animals  to  some  desperate  leap,  and  dashing  with  all 
the  weight  and  fierce  impetuosity  of  rider  and  horse 


154  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

full  upon  the  close  ranks.  The  Hospitallers,  who 
formed  the  rear  guard,  sustained  the  shock  with 
great  firmness  and  courage,  but  in  spite  of  their 
steady  resistance,  many  were  borne  down  by  the  fierce 
encounter  and  trampled  to  death,  while  others,  who 
were  only  unhorsed,  recovered  themselves  and  strove 
to  keep  up  with  their  comrades  who,  more  fortunate, 
still  held  their  seats  in  the  saddle.  It  was  severe 
work  for  these  knights  in  heavy  armor,  who  had  lost, 
their  horses,  to  be  obliged  to  run  along  the  field  on 
foot.  Richard's  order  wras  still  obeyed,  and  his 
army  had  borne  every  charge  of  the  enemy  without 
returning  the  attack.  The  Knight  Hospitallers  now 
became  impatient  and  fretted  angrily  at  the  disci- 
pline which  forced  them  to  a  restraint  they  had  never 
exercised  when  set  upon  by  the  infidel  enemy. 
Patience,  although  a  Christian  virtue,  had  never  been 
the  distinguishing  quality  of  those  religious  brethren. 
Their  duty  was  to  strike,  not  to  suffer  for  the  cross, 
and  they  had  ever  been  foremost  in  the  onset.  Their 
impetuosity  had  never  given  them  a  chance  of  per- 
fecting themselves  in  defense,  a  modest  element  of 
warfare,  which  the  generalship  of  the  great  Richard 
taught  them  was  often  as  effective  as  the  more  showy 
and  attractive  attack.  The  Hospitallers  were  infuri- 
ated beyond  endurance  by  what  they  thought  the 
insolent  presumption  of  the  infidel,  and  burned  to 
revenge  themselves.  They  accordingly  ventured 
upon  sending  word  to  the  king  that  they  could  no 


Richard' 's  Tactics.  155 

longer  abide  his  orders,  and  must  punish  the  insolence 
of  the  Saracens.  Eichard  entreated  them  still  to 
check  their  ardor  for  awhile,  an  entreaty  which  they 
reluctantly  yielded  to  until  the  Saracen  horsemen 
began  to  single  out  the  knights  and  dash  at  them 
with  their  drawn  scimitars  as  if  throwing  down  a 
challenge  for  personal  encounter.  No  Hospitaller 
had  ever  turned  away  from  such  a  provocation  to  his 
chivalry,  and  his  bold  heart  welled  up  with  indignation 
too  full  for  restraint.  The  whole  body  then  resolved 
that  they  would  no  longer  abide  this  agonizing 
non-resistance,  and  Godfrey  de  Duisson,  the  Grand- 
Master  of  the  order,  rode  up  to  Eichard  and 
announced  the  determination  of  the  Hospitallers. 
The  king  was  yet  unwilling  to  issue  the  order  to 
charge.  He  was  bent  upon  his  plan  of  withholding 
his  first  blow  until  the  whole  Saracen  force  had  been 
drawn  within  his  power,  when  he  hoped  to  strike 
with  such  effect  as  to  paralyze  the  audacious  spirit  of 
the  Saracen  for  ever. 

Such  was  the  state  of  the  two  opposing  armies ; 
Eichard  marching  on  in  solid  phalanx,  unmoved  and 
unresisting,  and  Saladin  with  his  countless  host,  rest- 
lessly dashing  about,  now  trying  to  shake  and  scatter 
the  massive  array  of  the  Crusaders  by  an  impetuous 
rush  of  his  cavalry,  and  again  hovering  at  a  distance 
with  his  lancers  and  Arab  bowmen,  and  pouring  tor- 
rents of  spears  and  arrows  upon  the  devoted  Christ- 
ian troops,  with  an  attempt  to  irritate  them  tQ  a 


156  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

fury  which,  overleaping  the  bounds  of  discipline, 
might  carry  them  in  impetuous  confusion  into  the 
flood  of  Saracens,  in  which  Saladin  hoped  to  over- 
whelm them  by  his  greater  numbers. 

At  last,  before  Richard  had  yet  given  the  order, 
two  of  his  most  impetuous  knights,  the  Marshal  of 
the  Hospitallers  and  a  Norman  baron,  of  the  name 
of  Baldwin  de  Comero,  unable  to  contain  themselves 
any  longer,  for  they  were  among  those  in  the  rear 
who  had  borne  the  brunt  of  these  annoying  attacks 
of  the  Saracens,  fiercely  drove  their  spurs  into  their 
horses'  flanks,  and  sprung  from  the  ranks  right  into 
the  midst  of  the  enemy.  They  were  soon  hid  from 
the  sight  of  their  friends  by  the  thronging  Turks, 
who  were  bent  upon  crushing  them  by  their  weight 
and  numbers.  The  war-cry  of  these  Christian 
knights  was,  however,  heard  above  the  din  of  the 
galloping  horses  and  the  clashing  of  arms.  Godfrey 
de  Buisson,  catching  up  the  resolute  shout,  reechoed 
it,  and  exclaiming,  "  Come  what  may,  we  must  not 
leave  our  brethren  to  fight  unaided  or  die  una- 
venged," sprimg  to  the  rescue,  followed  by  the 
undaunted  Knights  of  St.  John.  The  action  now 
became  general.  The  brave  Earl  of  Leicester  led  on 
the  well-tried  English  to  the  charge  at  once,  while  the 
right  wing  of  the  army,  under  the  command  of  the 
bold  d'Avesnes,  and  the  left,  under  the  youthfid 
Henry  of  Champagne,  joined  with  resistless  ardor. 
The  shock  from  the  centre  was  terrific.     The  Saracens 


The  King  of  Assur.  157 

recoiled  and  tried  to  wheel  round,  hoping  by  this 
manoeuvre  to  avoid  the  crushing  effect  of  the  irre- 
sistible charge  of  the  Crusaders;  but  the  Turkish 
forces,  taken  by  surprise,  were  gathered  in  such  a 
confused  multitude,  that  the  desired  movement  could 
not  be  effected.  The  Saracens,  disappointed  in  their 
manoeuvre,  were  now  obliged  to  receive  the  attack 
in  all  its  terrible  force,  and  the  result  was  dreadful. 
Thousands  of  their  horsemen  were  dashed  from  their 
saddles,  and  either  killed  by  the  first  blow  of  the 
lances  of  the  knights,  or  slaughtered  by  the  men  on 
foot,  who  followed  in  the  bloody  work  of  the  cavalry, 
and  completed  the  work  of  death  that  had  been' so 
fearfully  begun. 

The  king,  who  had  hitherto  kept  himself  in  reserve, 
directing  the  manoeuvres  of  his  army  with  wondrous 
coolness  and  generalship,  now  clashed  into  the  thick- 
est of  the  fight,  followed  by  his  boldest  Norman 
knights  and  trustiest  Englishmen,  who  composed  a 
portion  of  the  main  body.  Richard's  work  that  day 
was  marvellous.  Trusting  to  his  own  powers  and 
personal  strength,  he  dashed  his'  horse — it  was  his 
favorite  Cyprus  charger — wherever  the  Saracens 
thronged  thickest  or  the  fighting  was  the  hardest. 
His  mighty  arm,  wielding  the  famous  battle-axe  of 
English  steel,  soon  cleared  the  way,  and  striking 
down  all  that  opposed,  now  on  the  right,  and  now 
on  the  left,  made  a  wide  passage  through  the  dense 
ranks  of  the  Siracens,  wherever  the  fierce  king  went, 


158  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

leaving  nothing  but  the  dead  to  encumber  his  bloody 
progress.  Richard  settled  the  day  by  his  prowess, 
seconded  by  his  own  brave  subjects,  who  com- 
posed the  main  body  of  the  army.  The  Saracens 
opposed  to  Richard  and  the  centre  of  his  army,  could 
resist  no  longer,  and  fled  to  the  hills  pursued  by  the 
English  and  Normans. 

The  left  wing  had  not  been  so  successful,  and  the 
Burgundians,  who  formed  a  large  portion  of  it,  had 
been  turned  by  the.  Turkish  cavalry,  but  the  Ger- 
mans coming  to  the  rescue,  the  men  of  Burgundy 
rallied,  and  the  two,  charging  together,  put  the 
enemy  to  flight.  The  right  wing,  from  the  first,  made 
a  successful  charge,  and  would  have  had  reason  to 
have  congratulated  itself  upon  the  success  of  the  day, 
had  it  not  been  its  misfortune,  as  in  fact  that  of  the 
whole  army,  to  lose  that  brave  soldier  and  able 
leader,  James  d'Avesnes.  This  knight's  impetuosity 
carried  him  far  ahead  of  his  men  into  the  midst  of 
the  Saracens,  and  although  he  gave  a  good  account 
of  himself  by  his  acts  of  desperate  valor,  he  was 
overpowered  by  numbers  and  wounded  in  the  thigh. 
This  wound,  though  severe,  and  bleeding  profusely, 
did  not  weaken  his  nerve  or  dull  his  spirit,  but  he 
fought  on  with  unabated  energy,  and  had  nearly  suc- 
ceeded in  clearing  himself  from  the  crowd  with  which 
he  was  struggling,  when  he  received  a  blow  from 
one  of  the  many  hands  raised  against  him,  and  fell  to 
the  ground.     He  had  been  carried  in  the  swaying  of 


The  English  Standard  in  Danger.         159 

the  struggling  combatants  toward  where  King  Eich- 
ard  was  fast  clearing  a  way  of  safety  for  his  brave 
knight  and  deeply-loved  friend,  but  sunk  before  they 
reached  each  other.  D'Avesnes,  however,  was  suf- 
ficiently near  to  be  heard  by  his  royal  master,  and 
turning  his  face  toward  Eichard,  said  with  his  dying 
voice,  "Brave  king,  avenge  my  death!"  Eichard 
faithfully  obeyed  the  dying  injunction,  and  soon  cov- 
ered the  bloody  corpse  of  his  brave  friend  with  a 
heap  of  the  slain  enemy. 

The  Crusaders  pushed  their  advantage  by  continu 
ing  hi  pursuit  of  the  flying  Turks  to  the  mountains, 
where  they  sought  refuge  in  the  passes  and  fastnesses. 
The  ardor  of  the  pursuers  carried  them  beyond  the 
bounds  of  prudence,  and  they  came  near  suffering 
a  loss,  which  would  have  been  deemed,  in  those 
chivalrous  times,  an  indelible  stain  upon  their  glory. 
The  standard  of  the  English  king  had  been  planted 
on  the  battle-field  under  the  guard  of  a  very  small 
body  of  Norman  and  English.  A  considerable  force 
of  Saracens,  who  had  not  been  in  the  heat  of 
battle,  came  up  at  a  moment  that  the  Crusaders 
were  at  the  distance  in  eager  pursuit  of  the  enemy, 
and  struck  a  blow  for  the  English  standard.  The 
brave  guard  gallantly  defended  themselves,  and  kept 
the  Turkish  tigers  at  bay  for  a  considerable  time, 
but  would  have  been  obliged  at  last  to  have  yielded 
in  the  unequal  struggle,  had  not  the  bold  French 
knight,  William  de  Barres,  returning  with  some  of 


160  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

his  men  from  the  pursuit,  come  up  and  beat  off  the 
Saracens,  and  sent  them  to  follow  the  steps  of  their 
fugitive  comrades. 

Nor  were  the  Christians,  even  now,  although  they 
had  so  completely  defeated  the  Saracens,  free  of 
annoyance  from  the  skirmishing  parties.  Although 
the  Turks  had  proved,  on  that  fatal  day,  on  the  plain 
of  Assur  their  total  inability  to  cope  with  Richard 
on  a  fair  field,  they  could  still,  by  their  knowledge 
of  the  country,  and  the  swiftness  of  their  Arab 
horses,  keep  up  with  effect  that  guerilla  warfare 
in  which  they  so  much  excelled.  Accordingly,  on 
the  very  night  of  the  battle,  while  the  Crusaders 
were  fixing  their  tents,  a  fresh  body  of  Saracen  light- 
horse  sallied  out  from  an  unexpected  quarter  and 
charged,  at  an  unguarded  moment,  upon  the  camp 
of  the  Crusaders.  The  king,  aroused  by  the  noise, 
sprang  to  his  horse,  and  followed  only  by  fifteen 
knights,  rushed  into  the  melee,  and  shouting,  "  God 
for  us  and  the  Holy  Sepulchre  !"  struck  such  terror 
into  the  Saracens  that  they  fled  precipitately. 

The  Crusaders  now  retired  to  their  tents,  wearied 
with  fatigue  and  sated  with  the  glory  of  the  day. 
The  victory  they  had  won  was  one  of  the  greatest 
in  the  military  annals  of  ancient  or  modern  times. 
Richard  had  proved  himself  not  only  the  brave 
knight  but  the  great  general.  With  a  force,  the 
tithe  only  of  his  enemy,  he  had,  by  his  skillful  tactics 
and  manoeuvres,  gained  a  great  victory  over  greatl) 


The  Great  Victory.  161 

superior  numbers,  whereas,  if  he  had  trusted  merely 
to  the  personal  strength  and  undaunted  courage  of 
his  men,  he  would  have  been  sure  to  have  been  over- 
whelmed. 

That  thirty  thousand  Crusaders  should  have  victo- 
riously struggled  against  and  driven  from  the  field 
three  hundred  thousand  Saracens,  seems  too  marvel- 
lous for  the  sober  record  of  history,  yet  history 
justly  claims  it  as  a  truth  which  no  one  can  refuse  to 
acknowledge.  To  Richard's  military  genius  was  the 
great  victory  solely  due,  and  when  we  study  the 
exhibition  of  its  power,  in  the  able  conduct  of  that 
day,  on  the  battle-field  of  Assur,  we  no  longer 
marvel  at  the  magnitude  of  the  result,  but  contem- 
plate with  wonder  and  admiration  the  man  who 
effected  it. 

The  loss  of  the  Saracens  in  that  great  battle  was 
twenty  thousand,  according  to  the  best  authorities, 
although  others  make  a  lower  estimate.  The  fight- 
ing began  in  the  morning  and  continued  until  night- 
fall. The  Christians  lost  but  few,  and  among  them 
the  only  man  of  note  was  James  d'Avesnes,  while  the 
Sultan  left  thirty-two  of  his  great  officers  of  the  rank 
of  emirs  dead  on  the  field. 


11 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE  Saracens  had  retreated  from  the  battle-field 
of  Assur  in  great  disorder,  but  in  a  few  days 
succeeded  in  gathering  together  from  their  various 
places  of  refuge.  They  had  been  so  dispersed  by 
their  helter-skelter  flight,  and  were  so  fearful  of 
their  pursuers,  that  they  widely  straggled  from 
each  other,  and  hid  themselves  in  the  most  re- 
mote and  inaccessible  fastnesses  of  the  hills.  On 
the  thronging  together  again  of  his  scattered  forces, 
Saladin  convoked  an  assembly  of  his  chief  officers 
and  men  of  authority  to  resolve  upon  the  plan  of 
action  for  the  future.  The  Sultan  did  not  attempt 
to  conceal  the  impression  the  great  blow  of  the 
Christians  had  made  upon  him.  He  had  now  for 
forty  years  been  a  warrior,  and  hi  almost  every 
battle  during  that  long  life  of  warfare,  had  been  a 
victor,  and  he  confessed  that  such  a  defeat  he  had 
never  before  suffered,  nor  in  his  long  and  glorious 
career  of  conquest  inflicted.  His  ablest  generals  and 
his  officers  of  state  showed  by  their  emotions  and  by 
every  word  they  uttered,  that  they  felt,  like  their 
Sultan,  the  whole  weight  of  the  blow.  Terror  had 
evidently  struck  to  the  hearts  of  all,  and  every  one, 


Arrival  at  Joppa.  163 

rf-om  Saladin  to  the  meanest  Turk,  trembled  for  the 
safety  of  Palestine.  Neither  the  brave  Saladin,  nor 
the  most  daring  of  his  officers  thought  for  a  moment 
of  venturing  a  second  time  in  open  conflict  with  the 
formidable  Richard.  It  was  now  proposed  to  divide 
the  Saracen  army ;  that  one  half  should  be  led  by 
Saladin  to  the  fortified  city  of  Ascalon,  with  the 
view  of  either  defending  it  against  the  expected 
assault  of  the  Christians,  or  so  dismantling  and 
demolishing  it  as  to  make  it  not  worth  the  attempt, 
and  that  the  other  half  of  the  forces  should  be  left 
under  the  command  of  the  Sultan's  brother,  Malek- 
al-Adel,  to  watch  the  manoeuvres  of  the  Crusaders. 
These  propositions  were  acceded  to,  and  the  plan  of 
operations  adopted  accordingly. 

Richard,  after  remaining  in  his  encampment  on  the 
battle-field  for  two  days,  marched  on  the  third  to 
Jaffa,  the  Joppa  of  the  Bible,  of  which  he  took  pos- 
session. The  fortifications  of  this  city  had  been 
destroyed  by  the  Saracens,  but  the  place  was  well 
supplied  with  provisions,  and  the  rich  vineyards  and 
fields  of  the  fertile  country  in  the  neighborhood 
offered  an  abundance  of  luscious  fruit  and  corn.  Joppa 
rvas,  we  might  say  is,  for  it  is  the  same  town  under  the 
modern  appellation  of  Jaffa,  situated  on  the  coast  of 
Palestine,  about  twenty  miles  from  Jerusalem.  The 
position  of  the  city  is  most  beautiful,  looking  sea- 
ward to  the  west,  and  surrounded  on  every  other 
point  by  a  picturesque  country,  varied  by  hill  and 


164  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

vale.  The  valleys  are  fertile  and  well-cultivated,  and 
the  mountains,  verdant  at  their  base  with  the  luxuri- 
ant growth  of  that  warm  climate  and  generous  soil, 
gradually  rise  into  the  colder  strata  of  the  atmo- 
sphere, where  the  trees  grow  less  frequent  and  the 
foliage  more  scant,  until  finally  the  acclivities  becom- 
ing bare  and  desolate,  they  terminate  in  a  summit  of 
snow,  or  in  a  fierce  outburst  of  volcanic  flame.  The 
vine,  the  olive,  and  the  fig  are  cultivated,  and  supply 
an  abundance  of  luscious  product.  There  was  much 
in  the  city  of  Joppa,  although  laid  waste  by  the  des- 
tructive sweep  of  the  Saracens,  with  its  abundance, 
the  products  of  its  fields,  and  the  fruits  of  its  vine- 
yards and  gardens,  its  picturesque  position,  amid  the 
contrasting  beauties  and  sublimities  of  nature,  its 
warm  climate,  gently  tempered  by  the  moist  breath 
of  the  Mediterranean,  its  voluptuous  eastern  women, 
inclined  to  pleasure  and  society,  to  tempt  the  wearied 
Crusaders  to  the  indulgence  of  indolent  ease  and 
luxurious  enjoyment.  The  warriors  again,  as  at 
Acre,  threw  off  their  heavy  armor,  lengthened  out 
their  fatigued  limbs,  and  unbent  their  cramped 
sinews  in  the  soft  repose  of  leisure  and  wantonness. 
Let  us,  however,  return  to  Saladin,  who  had  now 
reached  Ascalon,  where  he  was  deliberating  upon  the 
proposed  plan  of  destroying  its  fortifications.  The 
long  siege  which  had  been  undergone  by  the  Saracens 
at  Acre,  with  its  sufferings  and  futile  result,  was  too 
fresh  in  the  remembrance  of  the  besieged  to  permit 


Ascalon  Destroyed.  165 

them  to  view  as  practicable  another  attempt  to  sus- 
tain a  fortified  town  against  the  impetuous  and  yet 
patiently-continued  assaults  of  the  Crusaders.  The 
feeling  of  the  army  was  opposed  to  another  siege, 
and  strongly  in  favor  of  the  expedient  of  destroying 
the  city  of  Ascalon.  Saladin,  however,  was  loth  to 
be  guilty  of  this  barbarism,  and  exclaimed,  with  a 
burst  of  agonized  emotion,  to  Bohaddin,  the  Arabian 
historian,  who  accompanied  the  Sultan  in  his  expedi- 
tions, "  By  Allah  !  I  would  rather  see  all  my  sons  dead 
before  me,  than  pull  down  one  stone  of  that  noble 
city ;  but  since  it  is  his  will,  and  necessary  for  the 
safety  of  the  Moslem,  let  it  be  done !"  The  order 
was  given,  and  the  destruction  of  the  city  begun. 
Ascalon  was  in  those  days  one  of  the  most  important 
towns  on  the  coast  of  Palestine.  It  was  there  that 
the  Mohammedan  Egyptians  were  wont  to  gather  in 
communion  with  those  of  the  same  faith  from  Jeru- 
salem, and  the  place  was  deemed  the  connecting  link 
between  the  two  people. 

The  Crusaders  at  Joppa  heard  of  this  destructive 
act  of  Saladin,  but  could  not  believe  that  the  Sultan 
would  thus  overthrow  in  ruin  one  of  his  strongest 
citadels  and  fairest  cities.  Eichard,  doubting  the 
intelligence  received  through  the  escape  and  arrival 
in  Joppa  of  some  of  the  inhabitants  of  Ascalon, 
determined  to  seek  more  trustworthy  information. 
He  accordingly  ecpiipped  one  of  his  swiftest  galleys 
and  sent  her  to  cruise  down  the  coast  and  approach 


166  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

as  near  as  possible  to  Ascalon.  Guy  of  Lusignan 
was  commissioned  by  the  king  to  go  in  her  and 
report  his  observations.  On  his  return,  he  confirmed 
all  that  had  been  stated  by  the  fugitive  towns-people 
of  Ascalon.  On  hearing  this,  a  council  was  held  at 
once  to  deliberate  upon  an  act  in  which  the  Crusaders 
felt  themselves  so  deeply  interested.  The  council 
were,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  dissentient  voice, 
all  in  favor  of  remaining  at  Joppa,  since,  as  they 
urged,  it  was  only  thirty  miles  from  Jerusalem,  and 
conveniently  situated  for  preparing  to  march  against 
that  holy  city.  King  Eichard's'  was  the  dissentient 
voice,  and  he  proposed  a  different  policy,  the  bold- 
ness of  which  was  in  conformity  with  his  brave 
spirit. 

"  Let  us  march  at  once,"  he  said,  "against  the  infidel 
Turks,  and,  driving  them  from  the  walls  of  Ascalon, 
save  the  city  which  they  have  doomed  to  destruction. 
When  they  hear  of  our  coming,  they  will  not  have 
time  to  turn  a  stone,  but  will  need  every  minute  to 
make  ready  to  escape  from  our  vengeance." 

This  spirited  proposition  was  borne  down  by  accla- 
mation in  favor  of  the  more  timid  plan.  According  to 
the  Arabian  historians,  had  Ascalon  been  taken  pos- 
session of  by  the  Crusaders  at  that  time,  Saladin,  so 
greatly  was  he  discouraged  by  his  late  defeat,  would 
have  probably  abandoned  all  his  conquests  and  even 
yielded  up  Jerusalem  itself.  The  English  king's  pro- 
position would  have  been  the  most  politic,  as  it  was 


The  French  Recreant.  167 

the  boldest,  and  proved  his  military  capacity  as  it 
did  his  lion-hearted  courage. 

It  was  now  proposed,  in  accordance  with  the 
determination  to  remain  in  Joppa,  to  repair  its  dis- 
mantled walls  and  towers.  Richard  had  now  full 
opportunity  of  judging  of  the  sincerity  of  those  who 
had  so  strongly  urged  the  advantages  to  the  Crusade, 
of  remaining  where  they  were.  Orders  were  given 
to  commence  operations  on  the  fortifications,  and  the 
advocates  of  the  plan  were  expected  to  set  to  work 
with  spirit.  All,  however,  seemed  loth  to  begin,  and 
what  they  had  unwillingly  commenced,  they  were 
reluctant  to  continue,  and  the  important  work  was 
neglected.  The  delights  of  ease  and  the  enjoyments 
of  the  town  were  now  clearly  the  chief  motives  of 
Richard's  opponents.  The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who 
had  been  among  the  most  determined  of  these,  and 
the  French  under  his  command,  showed  themselves 
most  averse  to  labor,  and  yielded  with  less  restraint 
to  the  dissipated  life  at  Joppa.  Several  of  the  knights, 
with  a  recollection  of  their  former  enjoyment  at  Acre, 
went  back  there,  drawn  by  the  seductive  charms  of 
their  sweethearts,  who  dwelt  in  the  tender  corners 
of  the  hearts  of  these  fierce  warriors,  not  altoge- 
ther hardened  by  all  the  trials  of  a  long  and  bloody 
campaign. 

Richard  was  greatly  troubled  by  this  relapse  of  his 
army  into  their  former  habits  of  indolence  and  dissi- 
pation.    He  now  struggled  to  raise  his  warriors  out 


168  The  Lion-Hear  fed  King. 

of  this  slough  of  wanton  indulgence.  The  king 
made  a  journey  to  Acre  purposely  to  bring  his 
recreant  knights  to  their  duty,  and  succeeded  in 
bringing  most  of  them  back  to  Joppa.  He  brought 
also  with  him  the  Queen  Berengaria,  his  sister  Joan, 
and  the  princess  of  Cyprus. 

Richard  was  exceedingly  fond  of  the  hunt,  and  as  the 
forests  and  plains  in  the  neighborhood  of  Joppa  afford- 
ing him  a  full  opportunity  for  his  favorite  sport,  he 
frequently  indulged  himself  in  the  company  of  a 
small  band  of  his  favorite  knights.     Nor  were  these 
sports   of   the    field    unaccompanied  with   danger, 
which  seemed  to  add  an  additional  attraction  to  the 
king,  in  affording  his  love  of  hazardous  adventure 
frequent  chance  of  gratification.     On  one  occasion 
Richard,  with  his  falcon  on  his  wrist,  rode  out  in  a 
group  of  a  few  knights  to  take  a  turn  at  hawking, 
in  which  he  greatly  delighted.     The  day  was  hot, 
and   the   sport  more   than  usually  good,  and   the 
king,  with  his  wonted  ardor,  had  entered  into  it  with 
great  spirit,  but  having  ridden  hard,  became  exhausted 
with  heat  and  fatigue.     He  accordingly  dismounted, 
and  throwing  himself  under  the  shade  of  a  spreading 
tree,  was   soon  wrapt   in   a   sound  slumber.     The 
Saracens  were  about  at  their  old  mischief  of  skirm- 
ishing and  looking  out  for  stragglers,  and  a  large 
troop,   passing   by,   spied    the   king.     In   order   to 
approach    without    exciting    the    attention   of   the 
knights  and  awakening  Richard,  they  walked  their 


The  King  Nearly  Captured.  169 

horses  gently  through  a  neighboring  wood,  and  were 
just  upon  the  sleeping  king  and  hie  careless  knights, 
ready  to  pounce  upon  them  and  make  an  easy  cap- 
ture, which  would  have  redounded  to  their  glory  for 
ever,  and  given  them  an  opportunity  of  making  the 
acceptable  offering  of  a  royal  prisoner  to  their  lord 
the  Sultan. 

One  of  the  Saracen  horses,  however,  was  startled 
at  the  sight  of  the  strange  warriors  in  their  dash- 
ing hunting  suits,  and  the  noise  of  its  plunging 
among  the  under-growth,  attracted  the  attention  of  a 
knight,  who  aroused  the  king  from  his  heavy  sleep. 
Richard  sprung  to  his  horse,  and  had  hardly  lifted 
himself  into  his  saddle,  when  the  Saracen  horsemen 
were  within  the  reach  of  his  arm.  The  king,  always 
ready,  drew  his  sword  and  struck  down  the  foremost, 
when  the  others  fled  for  their  lives  and  Richard  after 
them,  shouting  with  great  glee,  for  he  gloried  in  such 
adventure,  more  even  than  in  his  favorite  pursuit  of 
hawking.  He  had  not  galloped  far  when  another 
body  of  Saracens  suddenly  appeared  from  an  ambush 
of  thickly-set  trees,  and  set  upon  the  king  and 
knights.  The  Saracens  tried  to  dismount  them  by 
pulling  them  from  their  horses,  and  although  they 
found  this  no  easy  matter,  they  bid  fair  for  success 
in  the  attempt  by  force  of  numbers.  The  king, 
although  known  to  be  among  the  group  of  knights, 
was  not  personally  recognized  by  the  Saracen  horse- 
men, and  their  purpose  was  to  cany  them  all  off  tc 


170  Tlie  Lion-Hearted  King. 

make  sure  of  the  royal  prisoner.  "While  struggling, 
William  de  Pratelle,  a  knight  of  Provence,  seeing 
the  danger  of  his  royal  master,  cried  out,  with  a 
generous  self-sacrifice,  "  Stand  back,  Infidel  Turks 
that  ye  are,  I  am  the  king."  The  Saracen  horsemen 
then  all  at  once  surrounded  De  Pratelle,  and  making 
him  prisoner,  rode  off  in  great  glee,  abandoning  the 
others.  Thus  was  Richard  and  the  cause  of  the 
Crusaders  saved  by  the  noble  devotion  of  the  knight 
of  Provence.  It  was  impossible  to  rescue  the  cap- 
tive, for  only  two  or  three  knights  were  left  able  to 
mount  their  horses,  four  having  been  killed  and 
others  Abounded  in  the  struggle.  The  generous  Wil- 
liam de  Pratelle  was  at  the  earliest  moment  restored 
to  freedom  by  the  interposition  of  Richard,  who 
never  forgot  a  friend,  nor  failed  to  compensate  an  act 
of  devotion  by  his  lasting  gratitude. 

The  works  at  Joppa  went  on  slowly,  and  the  demo- 
ralization of  the  Crusaders  increased.  The  knights 
and  soldiers  yielding  more  and  more  to  idleness  and 
enjoyment,  became  languid  and  averse  to  duty.  The 
king  determined  to  enkindle  the  war  spirit  again 
among  his  followers,  and  accordingly  drew  out  his 
forces  from  the  city,  and  encamped  them.  The  rude 
life  of  the  camp,  with  its  severe  discipline  and 
soldier's  fare,  the  king  knew  would  soon  invigorate 
the  strength  and  revive  the  old  spirit  of  his  men. 
The  site  chosen  for  the  camp  was  between  the  castles 
of  Planes  and  Macy.    The?e  had  been  partly  demol 


A  Skirmish.  171 

ished,  and  hard  work  was  here  in  store  for  some  of 
the  Crusaders,  who  were  set  to  repairing  them. 
Richard  kept  others  busy  by  sending  them  out  on 
expeditions  to  obtain  supplies  by  ravaging  the  coun- 
try around.  They  occasionally  met  with  the  Sara- 
cens on  these  free-booting  excursions,  with  whom  they 
had  frequent  bloody  encounters. 

On  one  occasion  a  foraging  party  made  up  of 
Knight  Templars  sallied  out  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  a  supply  of  fodder  for  their  horses.  They 
had  reached  a  fine  field  of  grass  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  Castle  of  Macy,  and  had  cut  down  a  supply 
which  they  were  gathering  into  bundles  ready  to 
carry  off,  when  a  large  body  of  Turkish  horsemen 
came  upon  them,  while  they  were  off  their  horses, 
engaged  in  their  work.  The  knights  formed  them 
selves,  while  on  foot,  in  close  array,  and  prepared 
to  defend  themselves,  resolved  to  sell  their  lives  at 
the  heaviest  price  their  courage  could  command. 
The  odds  were  fearfully  against  them.  The  Saracens 
amounted  to  over  four  thousand,  well  armed  and 
equipped,  while  the  Templars  were  a  mere  handful, 
dismounted,  and  provided  merely  with  their  short 
swords.  At  the  first  attack  of  the  Turks,  three 
Templars  were  struck  down  and  slain,  and  the 
survivors  had  to  struggle  in  a  hand-and-hand  con- 
flict with  the  overpowering  numbers  of  the  enemy. 
A  small  body  of  some  fifteen  of  their  order  came  up 
at  this  moment  to  the  rescue,  and  valiantly  struck  a 


172  The-  Lion-Hearted  King. 

blow  for  their  comrades.  The  foremost  of  thr 
Saracens  were  made  to  bite  the  dust  by  the  first 
shock  of  the  gallant  band,  but  this  advantage,  od 
the  part  of  the  Templars,  was  but  temporary.  The 
immense  throng  of  the  Turks,  which  supplied  dozens 
for  every  man  slain,  was  irresistible.  King  Richard, 
from  the  lofty  tower  of  the  neighboring  Castle  of 
Macy,  espied  the  tumult,  and  could  hear  by  the 
shouts,  and  see  by  the  clouds  of  dust  that  a  desperate 
encounter  was  going  on.  "  What  have  we  there  ?" 
said  the  king  to  a  knightly  companion  by  his  side. 
"  Some  Templars  at  blows  with  the  infidels,  and 
methinks  the  Turks  are  like  to  have  the  better  of 
the  day,"  answered  his  attendant.  Richard  did  not 
much  like  the  Templars,  for  that  order  affected  an 
air  of  superiority  over  his  own  knights,  and  had 
sided  with  Conrad  against  the  king's  party.  "Would 
that  they  were  other  than  those  holy  rebels," 
resumed  Richard,  "  but  I  must  to  their  rescue,  for 
it  shall  never  be  said  I  forsook  a  brave  knight  in  his 
peril."  So  the  king  hastened  to  put  on  his  armor, 
and  in  the  mean  time  sent  the  brave  English  Earl  of 
Leicester  to  their  aid.  This  operation  of  putting  on 
armor  was  a  tedious  affair,  and  before  he  was  ready 
a  messenger  hurried  to  him  with  word  that  the 
Templars  and  the  Earl  were  being  overborne  by 
the  host  of  Turks.  So,  without  more  ado,  Richard 
mounted  his  horse,  and  shouting,  "  St.  George !  St. 
George !  to  the  rescue !"  spurred  into  "the  thickest 


A  Plot  Discovered,  173 

of  the  struggle.  Laying  about  him  with  his  usual 
vigor,  and  springing  upon  the  leader  of  the  enemy,  a 
noble  emir,  to  whom  he  had  cleared  a  way  through 
his  thickly-set  guard,  unhorsed  him  by  a  single  blow, 
and  the  Turk  laid  dead  on  the  ground.  The  rest  of 
the  Saracens  now  turned  their  horses'  heads  and 
fled. 

Such  was  no  uncommon  incident,  and  the  Crusa- 
ders had  ample  opportunity  for  the  like  exhibitions 
of  their  valor,  as  we  have  just  recorded.  The  knights 
gloried  in  such  adventures,  and  sought  every  occasion 
for  the  trial  of  their  powers.  The  king  himself  was 
always  foremost  in  these  encounters,  and  only 
laughed  at  the  constant  entreaties  of  his  friends, 
who  urged  him  not  to  expose  his  valuable  life. 
These  feats  of  personal  daring  were  bruited  through- 
out Palestine,  and  the  people  heard  with  wonder  of 
the  great  prowess  of  Richard  and  his  brave  knights, 
who  assumed,  in  their  oriental  imaginations,  the 
marvellous  character  of  avenging  spirits,  invulnerable 
to  all  human  means  of  attack. 

A  negotiation,  calculated  to  affect  seriously  the 
interests  of  the  Crusaders,  was  now  disclosed.  It 
will  be  recollected  that  Conrad  was  the  disappointed 
competitor  for  the  throne  of  Jerusalem.  Although 
he  apparently  gave  in  his  adherence  to  the  arrange- 
ment that  was  decided  upon  by  the  Crusaders,  he 
was  evidently  a  disappointed  man,  and  had  retired  to 
Tyre,  after  the  departure  of  his  chief  friend  and 


174  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

advocate,  Philip  of  France,  to  brood  over  his  wrongs 
and  plot  for  the  establishment  of  what  he  contended 
was  his  right.  Conrad  now  sent  a  messenger  to 
Saladin,  who,  having  completed  his  ruin  at  Ascalon, 
had  retired  to  Ramula,  which  was  directly  in  the 
course  of  the  Crusaders,  should  they  take  up  their 
march  for  Jerusalem.  Conrad's  messenger  was 
authorized  to  make  a  proposition  to  the  Sultan  to 
this  effect :  that  if  the  latter  would  secure  to  the 
former  the  possession  of  Tyre,  Sidon,  and  Berytus, 
(Beyroot,)  he,  Conrad,  would  declare  at  once  against 
the  Crusaders,  and  give  his  aid,  if  required,  in  driving 
them  out  of  the  Holy  Land.  Saladin  listened  to 
this  proposition  with  a  favorable  ear,  and  was  dis- 
posed to  accept  it,  but  while  negotiating  with  Conrad, 
a  greater  than  he,  King  Richard  himself,  had  his  pro- 
posals to  offer  for  a  treaty  with  the  infidel. 

This  is  certainly  a  new  era  in  the  history  of  the 
Crusades,  where  we  find  the  Christian  and  the  infidel 
entertaining  propositions  for  treaties  of  alliance. 
Richard  proposed,  as  the  basis  of  a  treaty  of  peace 
with  Saladin,  the  cession  of  Jerusalem  and  that  part 
of  Palestine  between  the  sea  and  the  river  Jordan, 
and  the  giving  up  of  the  true  cross.  Saladin  dis- 
patched his  brother  Saphadin,  (Malek-a]  Adel,) 
who  had,  as  we  have  learned,  the  command 
of  one  half  of  the  Saracen  army,  to  treat  with 
Richard  in  person.  They  could  not  agree,  however, 
on  terms,  and  the  negotiation  was  broken  off.     The 


Courtesies  betioeen   Turk  and  Christian.     175 

feeling,  however,  between  the  two  monarchs  had 
greatly  changed;  Richard  and  Saladin  mutually 
admired  each  other,  and  in  their  common  chivalry 
forgot  their  differences  of  religion.  The  Sultan  had 
always  shown  a  gallant  courtesy  toward  his  great 
antagonist,  and  while  Richard  was  prostrate  with 
a  raging  fever  hi  the  camp  before  Acre,  Saladin  had 
sent  him  stores  of  the  fruits  of  the  country,  the 
luscious  plums  of  Damascus  and  juiciest  pears  and 
peaches,  and  various  oriental  luxuries,  among  which 
was  the  pure  snow  from  the  summits  of  the 
mountains,  with  which  to  cool  his  sherbet  and 
other  refreshing  beverages.  The  king  highly  appre- 
ciated these  courtesies,  and,  moreover,  admired 
the  Sultan  for  his  bearing  on  all  occasions  as  a 
gallant  enemy.  This  increasing  good  will  between 
the  monarchs  led  to  an  assuagement  of  the  horrors  of 
the  war  they  were  waging  with  each  other.  At  first 
no  quarter  had  been  given  by  the  Christians  or 
Turks ;  whoever  fell  into  their  power  was  mercilessly 
butchered;  but  now  a  more  humane  system  pre- 
vailed, and  prisoners  were  treated  with  forbearance 
until  exchanged  or  otherwise  delivered  up. 

The  brother  of  the  Sultan  did  much  by  his  courtesy 
and  his  diplomatic  skill  in  strengthening  the  mutual 
regard  of  the  antagonistic  but  chivalrous  monarchs. 
Richard  was  so  far  won  over,  that  he  absolutely  con- 
ferred the  honor  of  knighthood  upon  a  son  of  Sapha- 
din,  which  greatly  excited  the  indignation  of   the 


176  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

religious    knights,  who   had   little   sympathy   with 
Richard's  broader  views  and  more  liberal  spirit. 

The  great  king  did  not  stop  here ;  he  astounded  all 
Christendom  by  offering  his  sister  Joan  in  marriage 
to  Saphadin.  This  Christian  lady  heard  the  proposi- 
tion with  horror  and  religious  dismay,  and  declared 
that  she  would  resist,  at  all  hazards,  the  unholy  em- 
braces of  an  infidel  Turk.  The  Christian  knights 
with  one  accord  approved  her  spirit  and  piety,  and 
swore  by  all  .that  was  holy  that  they  would  support 
her  resolve  with  their  swords.  The  king  was  obliged 
to  yield.  The  Sultan  had  concurred  at  once  in  the 
proposed  marriage,  and  his  brother  was  in  nowise 
averse  to  taking  to  his  Moslem  arms  a  Christian 
woman,  who,  though  no  longer  very  young,  was  still 
attractive.  All  hope,  however,  of  negotiation  was 
now  abandoned,  in  consequence  of  the  spirited  resist- 
ance of  the  pious  Joan,  and  the  fierce  threats  of  the 
Christian  knights.  Richard  had  more  of  the  policy 
of  the  statesman  than  of  the  superstition  of  the 
devotee  in  his  composition,  and,  guided  by  worldly 
wisdom,  if  not  by  heavenly  charity,  thought  calmly 
of  conciliation  when  his  fanatic  followers  raved 
fiercely  for  persecution.  The  humanity  of  peace 
promised  to  bless  the  politic  plans  of  the  king.  The 
inhumanity  of  war  was  the  certain  result  of  the 
fanatic  determination  of  the  Crusaders.  Richard, 
now  finding  his  pacific  views  overruled,  resolved  to 
push  on  the  campaign  with  spirit,  and  accordingly 


March  to  Jerusalem.  177 

marched  toward  Jerusalem.  The  Crusaders  first 
reached  Ramula,  the  Arimathea  of  the  Bible,  about 
thirty  miles  from  Jerusalem,  and  thence  proceeded  to 
Bethanopolis.  Here  the  Crusaders  determined  to 
make  a  stand,  and  resisted  Richard's  earnest  desire 
to  push  on  at  once  to  Jerusalem,  and  make  himself 
master  of  the  holy  city.  The  king  was  thus  thwarted 
in  all  his  plans,  whether  of  peace  or  war.  He  was 
always  in  advance  of  the  other  leaders  of  the 
Crusade,  and  as  without  him  they  could  have  done 
nothing,  without  them  he  could  have  done  much  more. 
It  was  now  the  season  when  the  rain  poured  down 
almost  incessantly  for  months,  and  it  was  accordingly 
urged  by  the  Templars  and  Hospitallers  that  the 
exposure  of  the  army  during  a  lengthened  siege  in 
the  rainy  season  of  winter,  would  be  disastrous  to  the 
health  of  the  soldiers.  The  king  unwillingly  yielded 
and  gave  the  order  for  a  retreat  to  their  old  quarters 
at  Joppa. 

The  winter  was  now  passed  in  this  city,  and  during 
its  long  inactivity,  a  spirit  of  insubordination  fer- 
mented among  the  unsettled  characters  of  the 
Crusaders.  During  an  active  campaign,  when  dan- 
ger threatened,  Richard  was  the  great  centre  of  hope, 
about  which  the  bright  chivalry  of  Christendom  crys- 
tallized, giving  united  firmness  and  splendor  to  the 
common  cause ;  but  now,  in  the  torpidity  of  winter 
quarters,  when  no  menaced  peril  stirred  the  general 
mass,  each  restless  leader  frothed  upon  the  surface, 
12 


178  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

and  resisted  the  attraction  of  Richard,  the  great  cen- 
tral nucleus  of  the  Crusade. 

The  Dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Austria  were  the 
foremost  of  these  uneasy  spirits,  who  now  showed 
their  restlessness  under  the  authority  of  the  king  by 
opposing  every  proposition  he  offered,  and  thwarting 
every  plan  he  devised.  Richard  was  for  marching, 
now  that  the  rainy  season  was  over,  directly  upon 
Jerusalem.  The  Dukes  of  Burgundy  and  Austria 
strenuously  objected,  and  substituted  a  plan  of  their 
own :  this  was  to  march  to  Ascalon  and  build  up  the 
fortifications  of  that  city,  although  these  same  men 
had  vehemently  ojDposed  the  former  proposition  of 
Richard,  to  proceed  thither  and  drive  away  the 
Saracens  before  they  had  accomplished  its  destruc- 
tion. Now  that,  however,  it  was  in  complete  ruins, 
and  the  work  of  fortifying  it  would  be  tenfold  more 
arduous,  these  factious  leaders  urged  the  taking  pos- 
session of  Ascalon.  Their  motive  was  evidently  only 
the  most  contemptible  spite  and  violent  envy  of  the 
noble  Richard. 

When  the  order  was  given  to  march,  the  soldiers 
were  almost  ready  to  resist  in  open  rebellion.  They, 
to  a  man,  were  in  favor  of  the  spirited  expedient  of 
storming  Jerusalem  at  once,  and  had  such  a  horror 
of  the  temporizing  policy  of  a  march  to  Ascalon,  that 
they  murmured  their  discontent  so  palpably,  as  to 
alarm  the  leaders  with  the  danger  of  open  resistance. 
The  French  soldiers,  under  the  command  of  the  Duke 


Arrival  at  Ascalon.  179 

of  Burgundy,  now  grumbled  against  the  expedition, 
though  proposed  by  their  own  commander,  and  many 
of  them  deserted  and  enrolled  themselves  under  the 
standard  of  Conrad  at  Tyre. 

Richard,  however,  always  resolute  in  completing 
what  he  had  begun,  showed  the  example,  himself,  of 
intrepid  faithfulness  to  duty,  and  urged  his  followers 
to  do  likewise.  Notwithstanding  the  disaffection  of 
the  troops,  the  scanty  supply  of  provisions,  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather,  and  much  sickness,  the 
army  was  led  to  Ascalon,  where  it  arrived  early  in 
January  of  the  year  1192. 

The  Crusaders  were  at  once  busily  engaged  m 
the  reconstruction  of  the  fortifications  of  the  city. 
The  king  showed  a  good  example  by  working  in 
person  at  the  masonry,  and  he  was  followed  by  the 
noblest  princes  and  bravest  knights,  as  well  as  by  the 
most  renowned  ecclesiastics,  bishops,  priests,  and 
clerks,  who  all  set  to  work  like  common  laborers. 
The  Duke  of  Austria,  however,  was  too  superb  to 
engage  in  this  humble  occupation,  though  the  king 
of  England  had  shown  him  the  example.  This 
absurdly  magnificent  noble  replied,  when  Richard 
urged  him  to  lend  his  aid  to  the  labor  in  which 
king  as  well  as  common  soldier  was  earnestly  en- 
gaged, that  he  was  not  the  son  of  a  carpenter  or  of 
a  mason,  and  that  he  would  put  his  hand  to  no  such 
vulgar  business.  The  king  is  said  to  have  been  so 
disgusted  with  this  paltry  exhibition  of  ducal  mean- 


180  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

ness,  that  he  contemptuously  kicked  his  grace  of 
Austria,  and  sent  him,  as  well  as  his  vassals,  neck 
and  heels  out  of  the  town.  Eichard  had  nad  an  old 
quarrel  with  this  Austrian  duke,  who  was  impudent 
enough  to  hoist  his  own  standard  upon  one  of  the 
towers  of  Acre,  after  the  Christians  took  possession, 
although  he  was  the  last  man,  on  the  score  of  merit, 
who  had  any  right  to  such  an  honor.  The  king  had, 
very  properly,  torn  down  the  standard  and  cast  it 
into  the  ditch,  for  which  the  Duke  of  Austria  never 
forgave  him ;  and  his  grace,  in  consequence,  nursed  a 
grudge  against  Richard,  which  he  took  the  first  safe 
opportunity  of  gratifying.  Such  was  the  spirit  in 
which  the  work  at  the  fortifications  was  carried  on, 
that  Ascalon  soon  presented  its  former  appearance. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy,  like  his  master,  Philip  of 
France,  had  always  been  disaffected  toward  Richard, 
and  now  an  occasion  occurred  which  brought  them 
to  an  open  rupture.  The  duke  called  upon  the  king 
for  a  loan,  which  was  refused  on  the  ground  that  the 
French  had  already  been  liberally  supplied.  His 
grace  of  Burgundy,  who  only  sought  a  fair  excuse 
for  a  quarrel,  pretended  to  take  umbrage  at  this, 
and  accordingly  left  the  king  in  great  dudgeon, 
and  departed  with  most  of  the  French  troops  for 
Acre.  The  Pisans  and  Genoese  had  wintered  there, 
and  as  they  always  were  at  variance  with  each  other, 
this  close  proximity  and  the  temporary  cessation  of 
hostilities  with  the  enemy,  gave  them  an  excellent 


Pisans  and  Genoese.  181 

opportunity  of  indulging  in  their  enmity  to  each 
other.  The  Pisans  were  warm  adherents  of  the 
English  king,  and  had,  with  him,  espoused  the  cause 
of  Guy  of  Lusignan,  while  the  Genoese  attached  to 
Philip  of  France,  had  joined  him  in  the  advocacy  of 
the  cause  of  Conrad.  In  addition  to  this  cause  of 
disagreement  there  were  the  political  difficulties 
which  they  brought  with  them  from  home.  When 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  the  French  reached  Acre, 
the  Pisans  and  Genoese  were  drawn  up  in  battle 
array  on  a  plain  before  the  city  ready  to  decide  by 
the  sword  the  quarrel  which  had  so  long  agitated 
them.  The  French  joined  the  Genoese  at  once, 
who  hailed  their  arrival  with  loud  acclamations  of 
joy.  The  Pisans,  however,  who  were  brave  soldiers, 
and  cared  little  for  the  French  or  the  Genoese,  com- 
menced the  attack,  and  in  the  first  impetuous 
onslaught  put  the  Genoese  to  flight,  and  unhorsed 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  who,  together  with  his 
French,  was  fain  to  follow  his  allies.  The  Pisans 
then  took  their  position  within  the  walls  of  Acre, 
and,  closing  the  gates,  prepared  to  sustain  a  siege. 
Conrad  was  now  called  from  Tyre  to  the  aid  of  the 
Genoese,  and,  in  nowise  loth,  gathered  his  forces 
and  hastened  to  Acre,  which  he  attempted  to  take  by 
storm.  The  Pisans  sent  word  to  their  friend  King 
Richard,  and  while  he  was  coming  to  the  rescuo 
defended  themselves  with  great  gallantry.  As  soon 
as  Conrad  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy  were  mad© 


182  The  Lion-Hcarted  King. 

aware  of  the  approach  of  the  formidable  Richard, 
they  hastily  abandoned  the  siege,  and  fled  in  their 
ships  to  Tyre.  On  the  arrival  of  the  king  the  diffi- 
culties between  the  Genoese  and  the  Pisans  were  set 
at  rest. 

The  Saracens  finding  that  the  Crusaders  would  be 
unprepared  to  engage  in  direct  hostilities  for  some 
time,  had  disbanded  for  the  winter  and  repaired  to 
their  homes,  with  an  understanding  that  they  should 
gather  again  in  the  month  of  May  under  the  standard 
of  Saladin  and  be  prepared  to  carry  on  hostilities 
against  the  Christians  with  renewed  vigor. 

Richard  had  now  returned  to  Ascalon,  where,  while 
his  own  faithful  Normans  and  Englishmen  had  sped 
with  the  works  on  the  city,  the  French,  following 
their  king's  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy's  example, 
indolently  held  back  from  their  duty,  and  when 
the  king  had  returned,  expressed  their  desire  to 
abandon  the  Crusade.  The  emissaries  of  Conrad 
had  been  busy  during  Richard's  absence,  and  had 
easily  persuaded  these  disaffected  persons  to  join 
the  standard  of  the  Marquis  at  Tyre.  The  king  did 
not  resist  their  desire,  but  seemed  anxious  to  get  rid 
of  such  useless  and  troublesome  allies.  "  Go,  but- 
terfly soldiers,"  said  the  king,  contemptuously,  "  and 
I  will  send  with  you  a  body-guard  lest  such  summer 
warriors  as  you  are  may  come  to  harm  by  the 
way."  They  left  with  the  contempt  of  every  brave 
man  in  Ascalon.     Richard  having  completed  the  for 


Fortifies  the  Coast.  183 

tifications  of  this  city,  directed  his  energies  toward 
the  other  towns  and  castles  which  had  been  dis- 
mantled, and  constructed  a  chain  of  fortified  posts 
from  Acre  to  Ascalon. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

WHILE  Richard  was  meditating  the  coming  cam- 
paign against  the  Saracens,  to  which  he,  in 
spite  of  manifold  difficulties  from  desertion,  the  dis- 
couragement and  wasting  away  of  his  forces,  looked 
forward  with  never-failing  fortitude  ;  while  the  great 
king,  confident  in  his  resources,  in  his  own  capacious 
mind  which  conceived  a  remedy  for  every  difficulty, 
and  in  his  own  untiring  courage  which  never  hesitated 
to  apply  it ;  while  the  Christian  monarch  in  imagina- 
tion, which  in  the  self-reliance  of  his  genius  was  but 
the  anticipation  of  reality,  was  planting  the  cross 
upon  the  towers  of  Jerusalem,  and  inviting  all 
Christendom  to  fall  down  with  himself  and  his 
devoted  followers  in  worship  at  the  tomb  of  God 
the  Saviour  ;  while  Richard,  as  soldier  in  battle, 
as  victor  in  triumph,  and  as  Christian  in  prayer,  was 
thus  passing  in  his  palace  at  Ascalon  the  hours  of 
declining  day  which  invite  to  reverie  as  varied  as 
the  changing  light,  he  was  startled  by  the  announce- 
ment of  the  arrival  of  a  messenger  from  England. 
The  current  of  the  king's  thoughts  changed  at  once, 
and  his  features,  which  had  settled  to  the  calm  of 


NEWS  FHOJt  ESTGL'AN] 


News  from  England.  185 

meditation,  were  ruffled  into  the  disturbed  expression 
of  anxious  impatience. 

The  Prior  of  Hereford  entered.  He  came  hur- 
riedly into  the  royal  presence,  with  that  abrupt  man- 
ner which  showed  that  business,  not  ceremony,  was 
uppermost  in  his  mind.  He  bore  letters  from  Eng- 
land, which  the  king  caught  at  with  a  quick  hand 
and  eagerly  read.  They  bore  the  signature  of  the 
Chancellor,  the  Bishop  of  Ely,  and  gave  Eichard 
ominous  intelligence  of  his  kingdom.  Prince  John 
was  acting  the  traitor,  wrote  the  bishop,  and  was 
striding  fast  to  the  throne  where  he  bid  fair  soon 
to  fix  himself  a  usurper  of  his  absent  brother's 
crown,  unless  Richard  himself  should  return  at  once 
and  vindicate  his  rights ;  so  imminent  was  the 
danger,  emphatically  added  the  Chancellor,  that  with 
all  haste  it  might  even  then  be  too  late  to  escape  it. 

This  was  a  severe  blow  to  the  king.  He  had  left 
his  kingdom  in  full  confidence  of  its  security,  and 
with  the  most  trusting  faith  of  his  brother's  love 
and  devotion  to  his  interests.  Richard  had  thus 
devoted  his  whole  soul  to  the  cause  of  the  cross  in 
the  Holy  Land,  and  had  bent  all  his  energies  toward 
securing  its  triumph.  With  all  the  cares  with  which 
his  career  was  beset  in  Palestine,  the  thought  of 
the  possibility  of  treason  hatched  within  the  shrine 
sacred  to  affection — in  his  own  home — in  the  heart 
of  a  brother — never  distilled  its  gall  into  his  cup  of 
bitterness. 


186  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Richard  was  sorely  perplexed.  He  must  new 
either  leave  his  kingdom  a  prey  to  treason  or  abandon 
the  cause  of  the  Crusaders  to  other  and  less  capable 
hands.  That  the  danger  of  the  former  was  imminent, 
the  earnest  appeal  of  the  bishop  left  him  not  a 
ground  for  doubt.  That  the  latter  was  full  of  risk 
he  knew  from  the  state  of  feeling  among  the  Crusa- 
ders, and  the  formidable  power  of  the  enemy.  The 
factious  disorganization  of  the  Christian  army,  with 
Conrad,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  all  the  French,  and 
a  large  portion  of  other  leaders  and  soldiers  of  vari- 
ous nations  gathered  at  Tyre,  disaffected,  on  the  one 
side,  toward  the  king,  his  knights  of  Normandy 
and  men  of  England,  and  some  scattering  forces 
from  other  parts  of  Christendom,  on  the  other, 
was  such  as  to  give  Richard  the  most  anxious 
fears  for  the  future.  If  he  were  gone,  this  dis- 
affection would  probably  be  inflamed  into  open 
hostilities,  and  the  Christian  world  shamed  by 
enmity  with  itself,  before  the  very  eyes  of  the  infidel ; 
and  exposed  alike  to  scorn  and  to  ruin.  Richard 
felt  himself,  as  he  was  acknowledged  by  all,  to  be 
the  Achilles  of  the  cause  of  the  Crusade,  and  if  he 
were  lost  to  it,  he  feared  that  all  hope  of  the  con- 
quest of  the  holy  city  would  also  pass  away.  The 
king,  however,  resolved  to  return  to  England. 
When  this  announcement  was  made  to  his  army, 
great  was  the  tribulation.  His  warriors  thronged 
about  him,  and  clinging  to  his  feet  besought  him,  as 


Prepares  to  Depart.  187 

he  was  their  only  hope,  to  stay  until  the  holy  city 
might  be  taken.  Deeply  moved  as  Richard  was, 
he  was  forced,  by  his  duty  to  his  own  country,  to 
refuse  all  their  entreaties.  His  own  feelings,  he  said, 
were  with  the  Crusaders  and  their  cause.  To  raise 
the  standard  of  the  cross  upon  the  towers  of  Jerusa- 
lem, and  drive  away  the,  scorner  and  infidel  from 
the  sepulchre  of  our  Lord,  had  been  the  dream 
of  his  boyhood  and  the  well-assured  hope  of  his 
manhood.  Now  to  be  forced  to  abandon,  perhaps 
for  ever,  the  holy  city  to  the  heathen  profanations 
of  the  Turk,  agonized  his  heart  almost  to  bursting. 

Richard  now  called  an  assembly  of  the  chief  men 
of  his  army  to  deliberate  upon  the  important  question 
of  appointing  his  successor.  The  king  had  always, 
since  his  arrival  in  Palestine,  advocated  the  claims  of 
Guy  of  Lusignan  in  opposition  to  Conrad.  This  had 
disaffected  the  marquis  toward  him,  and  had  cooled 
that  nobleman's  ardor  in  the  cause  of  the  Crusades. 
Conrad,  however,  was  much  abler  than  Guy,  and  in 
fact,  was  the  man  whom  undoubted  courage  and 
acknowledged  capacity  pointed  out  as  the  proper 
successor  to  the  English  king. 

The  question  was  submitted  by  Richard  to  his 
nobles,  he  telling  them  that  there  were  two  candi- 
dates, one  of  whom  they  were  to  choose,  and  that  he 
left  them  freely  to  select  him  whom  they  deemed 
the  best  to  command  the  army.  Conrad  was  chosen 
by  acclamation.     The  king  had  anticipated  the  re- 


188  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

suit,  and  concurred  in  it  with  a  heartiness  that  showed 
he  approved  of  the  choice.  Henry  of  Champagne, 
the  nephew  of  the  king,  with  a  number  of  the  princi- 
pal nobles,  was  commissioned  to  bear  to  Conrad,  at 
Tyre,  the  announcement  of  his  election,  and  the 
invitation  of  Richard  to  meet  him  at  the  earliest 
moment  at  Ascalon,  to  arrange  about  the  succession 
and  the  approaching  preparations  for  the  campaign. 
On  the  arrival  of  the  ambassadors,  and  the  announce- 
ment of  their  mission,  Conrad  was  pleased  beyond 
measure.  He  was  no  less  surprised,  for  such  had  been 
the  feeling  of  enmity  between  him  and  Richard,  that 
he  never  expected  this,  act  of  generous  conduct  from 
his  old  opponent.  The  people  of  Tyre  received  the 
intelligence  with  great  enthusiasm,  and  hailed  their 
ruler,  already  in  their  aspiring  imaginings,  as  the  con- 
queror and  king  of  all  Palestine.  This  joy  and  this 
enthusiasm,  however,  met  with  a  sudden  disappoint- 
ment, and  were  turned  to  sadness  and  wailing  by 
the  death  of  Conrad. 

Conrad  was  returning  from  a  dinner  with  the 
Bishop  of  Beauvais,  where,  receiving  the  congratula- 
tions and  the  enthusiastic  welcome  of  his  host  and 
the  noble  guests,  joy  and  hilarity  had  ruled  the  feast. 
Conrad  left  on  horseback,  attended  only  by  a  few  of 
his  personal  friends,  and  had  nearly  reached  his 
residence  when  two  Assassins  glided  from  behind  a 
pillar,  and  suddenly  coming  upon  him,  plunged  each  a 
dagger  deep  into  his  heart,  and  the  unfortunate  noble- 


Assassination  of  Conrad.  189 

man  fell  and  died  without  a  struggle.  The  companions 
of  Conrad  struck  down  one  of  the  Assassins,  but  the 
other  fled  to  a  church.  The  body  was  conveyed  to 
the  same  building,  and  placed  near  the  altar,  when 
the  Assassin  who  had  taken  refuge  there  issued 
from  his  hiding-place  and  plunged  another  dagger 
deep  into  the  lifeless  corpse,  as  if  he  would  make 
assurance  doubly  sure.  The  priests  and  attendants 
were  horror-struck  at  the  audacious  sacrilege  of  the 
murderer,  and  some  of  the  latter  seized  him.  The 
Assassin  was  then  submitted  to  the  torture,  and  not- 
withstanding the  cruel  trials  of  the  screw  and  the 
fagot  he  never  uttered  a  word,  but  died  in  torment 
without  disclosing  the  motive  or  the  instigators  of 
this  dark  tragedy. 

In  the  centre  of  Persia,  and  also  in  Syria,  at  Ala- 
in ut,  in  the  former  country,  and  at  Massiat,  in  the 
latter,  were  splendid  gardens,  veritable  Eastern 
paradises,  surrounded  by  strongly-fortified  walls, 
to  be  approached  only  through  mountain-passes  ac- 
cessible to  the  initiated  alone,  which  were  guarded 
by  lofty  towers  and  protected  by  draw-bridges  and 
the  threatening  portcullis. 

These  gardens  were  intersected  with  winding 
streams,  the  banks  of  which  were  shaded  by  groves 
of  palm,  through  which  stretched  paths  now  hid 
in  a  depth  of  green,  and  again  opening  upon  prospects 
of  thick  beds  of  ever-blooming  roses,  which  filled  the 
soft  atmosphere  with  sweet  odors  and  wrapped  the 


190  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

senses  in  an  ecstasy  of  luxurious  delight.  There 
were  vineyards  revelling  in  the  clustered  abundance 
of  the  purple  grape,  and  rejoicing  in  the  fantastic 
and  graceful  forms  of  the  vine,  with  the  ever- varying 
curves  of  its  supple  branches  and  its  curling  tendrils, 
to  which  the  gentle  breeze  gave  a  movement  like  the 
dance  of  young  girls.  There  were  far-extending 
orchards  weighed  down  with  luscious  fruit.  Avenues, 
overhung  with  trees  which  interposed  a  cool  shadow 
by  the  intermingling  of  their  foliage  above,  and 
exhaled  from  their  aromatic  breath  an  atmosphere 
of  exhilarating  odor,  led  to  palaces,  the  exterior  of 
which,  perfect  in  architectural  proportion  and  beauty, 
shone  in  all  the  splendor  of  pure  white  marble, 
varied  in  tasteful  skill  by  the  rich  malachite  and 
other  rare  stone  from  the  quarries  of  the  East ; 
while  the  pavements  of  the  passages  in  the  interior 
were  inlaid  with  ingenious  designs  in  artful  mo- 
saic, or  tesselated  with  variegated  marbles,  and 
cooled  by  fountains.  The  foot  stepped  ankle-deep 
in  Persian  carpets  which  adorned  the  chambers, 
while  from  the  lofty  walls  hung  silken  damask  of 
Arabesque  or  fantastic  pattern.  Drinking-vessels  of 
gold  and  silver,  overflowing  with  iced  sherbets,  glit- 
tered upon  trays  of  pure  crystal.  Charming  maidens, 
black-eyed  and  seductive  as  the  houris  of  Moham- 
med's paradise,  reclined  upon  soft  cushions,  and 
invited  to  pleasure.  Playing  on  the  harp,  these 
beauties  intermingled  music  with  the  songs  of  birds 


The  Assassins.  191 

and  the  murmur   of   the   fountains.     Every   thing 
breathed  pleasure  and  voluptuous  rapture. 

Amid  such  a  scene  of  beauty  and  delight  dwelt 
the  prince  of  the  Assassins.  A  youth  whose  strength 
and  resolution  was  deemed  worthy,  having  been 
chosen  for  initiation  into  the  order,  passed  through 
the  rugged  ascent  to  the  gates;  the  novitiate  now 
being  blindfolded  was  led  into  the  presence  of  the 
prince.  He  was  then  intoxicated  with  the  haschish, 
the  opiate  which  is  extracted  from  the  Eastern  hemp  ; 
and  the  bandage  being  removed,  he  was  conducted 
out  through  the  halls  and  into  the  gardens.  His  eyes 
were  now  first  awakened  to  the  charms  we  have 
attempted  to  describe,  and  his  senses,  a  hundred-fold 
more  acute  from  the  stimulating  influence  of  the  has- 
chish, were  steeped  in  all  that  could  delight  the  sensi- 
bility and  excite  the  rising  passion  of  youth.  The 
young  man  soon  sank  into  a  state  of  lethargy  from 
the  influence  of  the  opiate,  and  while  in  this  state  was 
carried  back  to  the  prince ;  when  he  awoke  he  was 
told  that  he  had  been  translated  to  Paradise,  and  had 
enjoyed  a  foretaste  of  the  bliss  promised  to  the  faithful 
who  devote  their  lives  to  the  service  of  the  prince  of 
Assassins.  Such  was  the  initiation  of  a  novitiate  into 
the  order  of  the  ITashashins,  (whence  the  modern 
word  Assassins  is  derived,  so  called  from  the  drug 
Haschish,  which  bore  so  important  a  part  in  the  cere- 
mony,) who  struck  terror  into  the  world  for  centuries. 
Marco  Polo,  the  great  Venitian  traveller,  verifies,  in 


192  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

every  particular,  the  account  we  have  given,  and 
which  agrees  with  that  of  the  oriental  writers  and 
historians. 

The  prince  of  the  Assassins  was  generally  kno^ii 
to  the  Crusaders  as  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain. 
Although  there  were  two  chief  stations,  each  pre- 
sided over  by  a  head,  a  prince,  or  as  he  was  termed, 
"  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain,"  one  in  Persia  and 
another  in  Syria,  it  is  the  latter  who  is  generally 
alluded  to  in  the  history  of  the  Crusades.  One  of 
the  best  accounts  we  have  of  the  terrible  order  of  the 
Assassins  comes  to  us  from  two  Christian  bishops, 
who  had  an  interview,  in  1172,  with  an  embassy 
from  the  chief.  From  this  we  learn  that  the  Assas 
sins  were  formerly  the  strictest  observers  of  the  laws 
of  Mohammed,  until  a  Grand-Master,  of  genius  and 
erudition,  and  intimately,  say  the  would-be  pro- 
selyting ecclesiastics,  acquainted  with  the  Christian 
tenets  and  doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  abolished  the 
Mohammedan  prayers,  annulled  the  fasts,  and 
allowed  all,  without  distinction,  to  drink  wine  and 
eat  pork.  The  fundamental  rule  of  their  religion 
consisted  in  blind  submission  to  their  chief,  by  which 
alone  they  could  obtain  eternal  life.  This  lord  and 
master  resided  in  the  Persian  province  lying  beyond 
Bagdad.  At  Alamut,  which  was  the  name  of 
this  place,  young  men  were  educated  in  secret 
tenets  and  pleasures,  and  well  instructed  in  various 
languages,  and  then  sent  armed  with  their  daggers 


The  Assassins  Everywhere.  193 

throughout  the  world,  to  murder  Christians  and 
Saracens  without  distinction ;  either  from  hatred,  as 
being  enemies  of  their  order,  or  to  please  its  friends, 
or  for  the  sake  of  a  rich  reward.  Those  who  had 
sacrificed  their  lives  in  the  fulfillment  of  this  duty 
were  adjudged  to  greater  happiness  in  paradise,  as 
being  martyrs  ;  their  surviving  relatives  were  loaded 
with  gifts,  or  if  slaves,  set  at  liberty.  Thus  was  the 
world  overrun  by  these  young  tigers,  who,  devoted 
to  murder,  issued  joyfully  from  their  lair  to  execute 
the  bloody  commands  they  had  received.  They  dis- 
guised themselves  in  various  ways;  sometimes  as 
monks,  as  soldiers,  or  as  merchants,  and  at  others  as 
beggars.  They  appeared  in  such  a  variety  of  shapes, 
and  conducted  themselves  with  so  much  caution  and 
secresy,  that  no  destined  victim  could  escape  their 
daggers.  They  aimed  at  no  small  game;  but  the 
great,  the  noble,  and  the  wealthy  were  the  objects  of 
these  sworn  Assassins.  At  the  time  of  Richard's 
conquests  in  the  Holy  Land,  this  terrible  order  had 
existed  for  five  hundred  years,  and  was  supposed  to 
number  no  less  than  sixty  thousand.  The  retreats 
of  the  chief,  in  the  mountains,  were  impregnable, 
whence  issued  the  dread  command  to  murder,  and 
the  obedient  satellites  were  everywhere,  with  their 
thousand  hands  upon  their  poinards,  ready  to  strike 
the  blow  of  death. 

•  Of  the  implicit  obedience  of  the  Assassins  to  their 
rulers  we  find  recorded  some  remarkable  examples. 
13 


194  The  Lion-IIcarted  King. 

An  eastern  sultan  having  sent  his  ambassador  to  the 
founder  of  the  order  to  require  his  obedience  and  fealty, 
the  latter  summoned  several  of  the  initiated  into  his 
presence.  Waving  his  hand  gently  to  one  of  them, 
he  said,  "  Kill  thyself,"  and  he  on  the  instant  plunged 
a  dagger  into  his  own  heart;  to  another,  "Throw 
thyself  down  from  the  rampart;"  the  command  was 
hardly  given  when  he  fell,  a  mutilated  corpse,  in  the 
moat.  The  prince  of  the  Assassins  then  turning  to 
the  ambassador,  who  was  trembling  with  fear,  said, 
"  Seventy  thousand  of  my  faithful  subjects  obey  me 
thus.     Be  this  my  answer  to  your  master." 

Henry,  Count  of  Champagne,  King  Richard's 
nephew,  on  one  occasion  visited  the  Old  Man  of  the 
Mountain  in  his  fastness  at  Massiat  in  Palestine. 
The  prince  of  the  Assassins  having  heard  that  Henry 
was  in  Armenia,  sent  to  him,  requesting  a  visit  on 
his  return  from  that  country,  assuring  him  of  a 
hearty  welcome,  as  he  had  long  desired  to  see  him. 
The  count  replied  he  willingly  accepted,  and  accord- 
ingly went.  When  the  prince  of  the  Assassins  was 
informed  of  the  approach  of  Henry,  he  went  out  to 
meet  him,  and  receiving  him  with  great  courtesy  and 
show  of  respect,  accompanied  him  back  through  his 
fortresses  and  gardens  to  one  of  his  castles.  This 
castle  was  surmounted  by  lofty  turrets.  At  each 
look-out  stood  two  guards  clothed  all  in  white,  which 
was  the  dress  of  the  initiated.  Then  said  the 
prince  of  the  Assassins,  "  Sir  Count,  your  Christians 


The  Devotion  of  the  AsSctssins.  1$5 

will  riot  do  for  you  what  my  men  will  for  me." 
"  Sir,"  replied  the  count,  "  that  may  well  be." 
Whereupon  the  prince  gave  the  word,  and  the  two 
men  in  white  leaped  from  the  lofty  tower,  and  their 
necks  were  broken.  The  count  greatly  marvelled 
and  said  that  truly  he  had  none  such  who  would  do 
so  much  for  him.  Then  the  prince  remarked,  "  Sir, 
if  you  desire  it,  I  will  make  every  man  you  see  leap 
down."  The  count  refused  the  polite  offer.  After 
a  somewhat  lengthened  visit,  during  which  he  was 
treated  with  great  courtesy  and  hospitality,  the 
prince  loaded  him  with  presents  of  jewels,  and  giving 
him  an  escort  of  faithful  Assassins,  promised  that  he 
would  always  be  his  friend,  and  if  at  any  time  he 
should  have  a  troublesome  prince  or  nobleman  that 
he  wanted  to  dispose  of,  he  had  only  to  call  upon  him, 
and  a  trusty  Assassin  or  so  would  be  placed  at  his 
service  at  once,  and  his  enemy  dispatched  without  fail. 
The  death-blow  of  Conrad  was  given  by  two  of  this 
terrific  order  of  Assassins,  who,  in  the  disguise  of 
monks  and  by  the  daily  and  strict  performance  of 
religious  offices,  had  eluded  the  suspicion  of  the  peo- 
ple of  Tyre.  The  purpose  of  the  murder  was  to 
avenge  an  injury,  which  the  prince  of  Assassins  never 
forgot  or  forgave.  One  of  his  ships  had  put  into 
Tyre  in  consequence  of  a  storm,  and  being  instantly 
taken  possession  of  by  Conrad,  was  plundered  and 
the  commander  put  to  death.  Two  of  the  surest 
emissaries  of  the  Old  MarC*  revenge  were  dispatched, 


196  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

and  watching  their  opportunity,  fearfully  washed  on 
the  insult  in  the  blood  of  Conrad  and  their  own. 

King  Richard  has  been  charged  with  this  dreadful 
murder;  but  the  act  is  so  inconsistent  with  the 
character  of  the  fearless  king  who  was  ever  ready  to 
face  his  enemy,  and  the  motive  so  hard  to  discover, 
that  we  should  reject  at  once  the  charge  as  baseless. 
Moreover,  there  is  a  letter  extant  addressed  by  the 
Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  to  the  king  of  France, 
which  artful  -  and  envious  prince  was  probably  tho 
author  of  the  slander,  in  the  course  of  which  the 
chief  of  the  Assassins  emphatically  denies  that  the 
king  of  England  was  in  any  way  concerned  in  the 
murder  of  Conrad,  and  avers  positively  that  his 
death  was  commanded  by  himself,  to  avenge  an  insult 
and  injury,  and  the  command  faithfully  obeyed  by 
his  Assassins.  The  genuineness  of  this  letter  has 
been  denied,  and  is  supposed  by  some  authorities  to 
have  been  written  by  an  English  hand  to  deceive  the 
world  into  a  belief  that  Richard  was  innocent.  Von 
Hammer,  the  latest  authority,  who  has  written  the 
fullest  account  of  the  Assassins,  says  there  is  great 
reason  to  believe  that  Lord  of  Thorm  had  employed 
the  Assassins  to  serve  his  revenge  against  Conrad  for 
having  appropriated  to  himself  Thorm's  wife,  Isabel, 
and  the  crown  of  Jerusalem.  Saladin  and  others 
have  also  been  suspected.  The  best  testimony,  how- 
ever, which  accords  with  the  character  of  the  lion- 


The  Succession  of  Tyre.  197 

hearted  hero  agrees  in  cleansing  the  great  Kichard's 
hands  from  the  foul  deed. 

Henry  of  Champagne  and  the  nobles  who  had 
accompanied  him  on  the  mission  to  Conrad,  were 
on  their  return,  and  had  reached  Acre,  when  they 
heard  of  the  assassination.  They  immediately 
returned  to  Tyre,  which  was  in  a  state  of  great 
affliction  and  excitement  in  consequence  of  the  appall- 
ing death  of  the  popular  Conrad.  Disputes  soon 
arose  in  regard  to  the  succession.  The  French  forces, 
which  were  gathered  hi  Tyre  to  the  number  of  ten 
thousand,  presumed  upon  their  strength,  and  sum- 
moned Isabel,  the  widow  of  Conrad,  to  deliver  up 
the  control  of  the  city  to  them  in  behalf  of  their 
king,  Philip  of  France.  To  which  she  replied  with 
.spirit,  that  she  did  not  acknoAvledge  the  French  king 
as  having  claim  to  the  possessions  of  her  late  hus- 
band or  of  herself,  but  added  that  if  the  king  of 
England  should  come,  as  he  was  the  only  true  leader 
of  the  Crusade,  she  would  yield  up  her  power  to  his 
disposition,  but  to  none  other. 

The  arrival  of  Henry  of  Champagne  at  this  emer- 
gency, settled  all  the  difficulty.  He  was  a  universal 
favorite,  and  as  he  was  a  nephew  of  both  Philip  and 
Richard,  his  mother  having  been  the  daughter  of 
Queen  Eleanor  by  her  first  husband,  Louis  of  France, 
the  French  and  the  English  were  equally  proud  of 
him.  His  gracious  manners,  his  youth,  and  manly 
bearing,  and   his  gallant  accomplishments  won  the 


198  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

affection  and  admiration  of  all.  King  Richard  loved 
him  as  a  son,  and  was  proud  of  his  early  success 
and  confident  in  the  promise  he  gave  of  future  great- 
ness. Henry  reciprocated  this  love  and  admiration, 
and  considered  it  the  highest  honor  to  be  mentioned 
as  the  nephew  of  the  lion-hearted  king. 

So  popular  was  the  Count  of  Champagne  with  the 
people  of  Tyre,  that  they  proposed  he  should  wed 
Isabella,  the  widow  of  Conrad,  and  become  their  lord 
and  master  at  once.  The  Count  was  not  averse  to 
the  proposition  ;  for  the  widow  was  still  young  and 
attractive,  and  the  alliance  opened  to  his  ambition  a 
prospect  his  aspiring  spirit  was  eager  to  reach. 
Henry,  however,  asked  for  a  delay  until  he  could 
assure  himself  of  the  permission  of  his  uncle.  Rich- 
ard eagerly  assented,  as  the  alliance  promised  so 
well  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  his  beloved  nephew. 
Immediately  after,  the  marriage  was  celebrated,  and 
the  crown  of  Jerusalem  was  .declared  as  the  joint 
right  of  Henry  and  Isabella,  who  assumed  the  title 
of  queen,  while  the  former  modestly  continued  to 
style  himself  merely  Count  of  Champagne. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

RICHARD  still  lingered  in  the  Holy  Land.  He 
could  not  tear  himself  away  from  his  long- 
cherished  hope  of  striking  a  blow  for  Jerusalem,  and 
winning  that  crown  of  glory  which  was  the  loftiest 
aspiration  of  the  Christian  warrior.  The  tomb  of 
the  Saviour,  through  the  dark  portals  of  which  the 
Crusader  saw  the  glorious  sun  of  his  immortal  hopes, 
was  yet  guarded  in  scornful  derision  of  all  Christen- 
dom by  the  infidel. 

Messenger  after  messenger  arrived  from  England, 
each  bearing  more  doleful  accounts  than  the  preceding 
one  of  the  state  of  the  kingdom.  King  Philip  of 
France,  in  spite  of  his  solemn  oath  to  Richard  on 
his  departure  for  the  Holy  Land,  sought  the  first 
occasion  to  injure  the  absent  king  and  despoil  him  of 
his  rights.  As  soon  as  he  heard  of  the  death  of  Con- 
rad, he  charged  Richard  publicly  with  the  crime.  He 
filled  all  Europe  with  his  slanders,  and  doubled  his 
guard  on  the  pretense  that  his  own  life  was  threat- 
ened by  the  hand  of  the  Assassins,  hired  by  the  Eng- 
lish king.  In  all  this  the  purpose  of  the  perjured 
monarch  was  very  apparent.  He  sought  an  excuse 
to  justify  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  an  attempt  upon 


200  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  dominions  of  Richard.  He  in  fact  prepared  to 
invade  Normandy,  and  was  only  prevented  from 
carrying  out  his  purpose  by  the  more  scrupulous 
honor  of  his  barons,  who  refused  to  perjure  them- 
selves by  attacking  what  they  had  sworn  to  protect. 
Not  succeeding  in  this  plan,  Philip  made  overtures 
to  John,  who  was  a  ready  listener  to  a  treasonable 
proposition.  The  French  king  promised  his  sister 
Alice  to  this  prince,  and  offered  to  put  him  in  pos- 
session of  all  .his  brother  Richard's  English  posses- 
sions. John  greedily  assented,  and  was  preparing 
to  cross  the  Channel  into  England. 

Such  was  the  intelligence  brought  by  the  last 
messenger  from  England  to  Richard ;  and  yet  the 
king  lingered  in  the  Holy  Land.  His  mind  was 
bewildered  by  these  opposing  motives  ;  but  he  was 
led  to  a  decision  finally  by  the  action  of  the  nobles 
and  knights,  who  at  a  great,  council  held,  came  to 
the  unanimous  resolve  of  marching  against  Jerusa- 
lem, whether  Richard  remained  or  no.  When  this 
determination  was  announced  to  the  king,  he  imme- 
diately proclaimed  throughout  the  army  that  he 
would  not  leave  the  Holy  Land  until  after  Easter  in 
the  following  year.  This  announcement  was  received 
with  great  joy  by  every  Crusader. 

The  French,  whose  vanity  had  been  gratified  by 
the  election  of  their  own  countryman,  Henry  of 
Champagne,  to  the  throne  of  Jerusalem,  were  now 
disposed  to  join  hand  in  hand  with  the  other  Cru 


March  to  Jerusalem.  201 

saders  in  their  attempt  upon  Jerusalem.  They  were 
accordingly  withdrawn  from  Tyre,  and  marched  with 
the  Duke  of  Burgundy  and  Henry  of  Champagne  at 
their  head  to  join  Richard  at  Ascalon. 

The  Crusaders  were  now  in  a  high  state  of  enthu- 
siasm preparing  for  their  march  to  Jerusalem.  With 
the  great  champion  of  the  cross,  the  lion-hearted  king 
himself,  to  lead  them,  every  Christian  soldier  in  the 
camp  enjoyed  already  in  advance  the  triumph  of  a 
victory,  and  felt  that  the  coming  campaign  was  but 
a  devout  pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  of  our  Lord.  The 
great  cause  for  which  the  Crusaders  had  so  long 
struggled,  had  endured  every  hardship,  and  for  which 
the  blood  of  their  brethren  had  been  so  profusely 
shed,  was  on  the  eve  of  a  great  triumph.  All  of 
every  nation  of  Christendom  were  now  gathered 
again  together  under  the  common  standard  of  the 
cross.  The  French,  from  Tyre,  had  reached  Asca- 
lon, and  vied  with  the  Normans,  the  English,  the 
Germans,  the  Genoese,  the  Pisans,  the  Knight 
Templars  and  those  of  St.  John,  in  enthusiasm  for 
the  last  great  conflict  which  was  to  drive  away  from 
the  Holy  City  for  ever  the  infidel,  and  secure  the 
sepulchre  for  the  pious  pilgrimage  and  worship  of 
the  Christian  believer. 

Previous  to  marching,  Richard  performed  an  act 

of  generous  liberality  toward  his  old  friend,  Guy  of 

Lusignan.     He  bestowed   upon  him   the    island  of 

Cyprus,  which  the  King  of  England  had  so  gallantly 

12 


202  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

conquered.  Kichard  thus  succeeded  in  reconciling 
Guy,  and  securing  his  nephew  Henry,  Count  of 
Champagne,  from  a  troublesome  disputant  of  the 
crown  of  Jerusalem. 

It  was  now  early  in  June  when  the  camp  of  the 
Crusaders  at  Ascalon  was  broken  up,  and  the  army 
commenced  its  march.  On  arriving  at  Bethanopolis, 
within  about  twenty  miles  of  Jerusalem,  the  Cru- 
saders came  to  a  halt,  and  encamped  until  the  arrival 
of  Henry  of  Champagne,  who  had  been  dispatched 
to  bring  up  those  Crusaders  who  had  remained  at 
Acre. 

Saladin,  aware  of  the  unanimity  of  the  Christian 
forces,  and  of  their  proposed  march  to  Jerusalem, 
gathered  his  troops  from  all  quarters,  and  mustered 
a  formidable  array  of  Saracens,  who  took  up  their 
position  among  the  mountains  which  extend  their 
chain  between  Bethanopolis  and  Jerusalem.  Saladin 
commenced  his  old  system  of  tactics ;  and  hanging 
upon  the  march  of  the  Crusaders,  pounced  upon  the 
rear,  or  cut  off  the  stragglers.  Sometimes  the 
Turks  would  flock  down  into  the  plains  and  provoke 
the  Christians  to  battle  ;  at  others  they  would  make 
a  sortie  from  their  fastnesses  in  the  mountains,  and 
rapidly  receding  from  their  attack,  tempt  the  impe- 
tuous Crusaders  to  follow  them  into  the  recesses  of 
the  hills.  When  Richard  led  the  attack  or  directed 
the  pursuit,  the  Saracen  was  sure  to  suffer  for  his 
presumption.     The  English  king  took  great  delight 


The  King  Perplexed.  203 

in  driving  back  the  Turks  into  their  hiding-places. 
One  morning  in  particular,  says  Aytoun,  he  chased 
them  so  far  that  he  found  himself  unexpectedly  at 
the  fountain  of  Emmaus,  and  in  sight  of  the  Holy 
City,  with,  all  its  minarets  and  turrets  gilded  by  the 
early  sun.  The  prospect  of  that  place,  for  the 
redemption  of  which  he  had  come  so  far,  affected  him 
even  to  tears  ;  nor  was  it  without  great  difficulty  that 
his  attendants  could  persuade  him  to  retire  from  so 
dangerous  a  vicinity. 

Richard's  thoughts  were  again  turned  toward  his 
distant  home.  A  more  earnest  appeal  than  ever 
urged  him  to  return  to  his  kingdom  ;  treason  within 
and  attack  from  abroad  threatened  to  overwhelm  his 
dominions  and  expose  his  throne  to  the  first  usurper. 
The  king's  mind  was  again  distracted  by  conflicting 
emotion.  Jerusalem  was  within  his  grasp,  and  he 
had,  as  it  were,  but  to  advance  a  step  and  reach  out 
his  arm  to  the  crown  of  glory  which  awaited  him. 
The  Saracens  were  anticipating,  in  dread,  the  coming 
event,  and  forsook  the  city  in  crowds.  But  the 
brave  hero  was  averted  from  the  glorious  rising  of 
his  sun  in  the  east  by  the  dark  cloud  and  the  mutter- 
ings  of  the  storm  which  were  threatening  in  the  west. 
[f  the  king  had  not  been  thus  bewildered,  but  had 
pushed  on  with  his  accustomed  vigor  to  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  conquest 
of  the  holy  city  would  have  added  the  crowning  tri- 
umph   to   his   great  career.      The   king,   however, 


204  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

remained  undetermined,  and  for  the  first  time  the 
onward  man  hesitated  to  move — a  sad  spectacle  of 
the  annihilation  of  power  by  two'  opposing  forces. 

The  army  thus  passed  a  whole  month  in  almost  a 
complete  state  of  inactivity,  varied  only  by  an 
occasional  skirmish  with  the  enemy.  Provisions 
began  to  be  very  scarce,  and  the  soldiers  were  dis- 
couraged by  idleness  and  want.  Joppa  was  the  near- 
est sea-port  town,  and  they  looked  to  it  for  the  much 
needed  supplies.  Accordingly  messengers  were  sent 
to  that  city,  and  soon  a  caravan  loaded  with  provi- 
sions set  out  for  the  camp  at  Bethanopolis.  It  was 
escorted  by  a  few  brave  knights.  Saladin  had  intel- 
ligence of  its  approach,  and  aware  of  the  great  need 
of  the  enemy,  determined  to  cut  it  off.  He  accord- 
ingly dispatched  a  large  body  of  Saracens,  who  were 
ordered  to  conceal  themselves  in  ambuscade  near  a 
narrow  gorge,  through  which  the  road  passed,  and 
await  the  coming  up  of  the  caravan,  when  they  were 
to  rush  upon  the  escort  and  seizing  every  man  of 
them,  carry  off  the  supplies.  The  Crusaders  were 
caught  in  the  snare  and  found  themselves  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Saracens,  who  impetuously  attacked 
the  knights,  disarmed  them,  and  carried  them  off  to 
the  mountains.  Before,  however,  the  Saracens  could 
carry  off  their  booty,  the  English  Earl  of  Leicester 
fortunately  came  up  with  a  large  force,  and  keeping 
off  the  enemy,  secured  the  much-needed  supplies. 

The  necessity  of  doing   something  was  now   so 


Richard  opposes  the  March  to  Jerusalem.     205 

urgently  felt,  that  a  great  council  was  summoned  of 
all  the  chiefs  and  knights  to  deliberate  upon  the 
plans  for  the  future.  Richard  was  now  opposed  to 
marching  against  Jerusalem,  and  said  to  those — 
among  whom  were  all  the  French  to  a  man — who 
were  in  favor  of  such  a  step,  that  if  they  were  fixed  in 
their  determination,  he  would  go  with  them,  that  it 
might  never  be  said  he  deserted  the  cause,  but  it 
would  be  as  a  follower,  not  as  leader.  He  would 
never  take  the  responsibility  of  what  he  believed 
must  certainly  result  in  disaster  and  ruin.  The 
grounds  upon  which  this  opinion  averse  to  a  march 
upon  Jerusalem  was  founded  were  stated  at  length. 
So  thoroughly  fortified  were  the  walls  of  Jerusalem, 
that  all  the  force  the  Crusaders  could  bring  to  bear 
against  them  would  be  ineffectual  in  establishing  a 
blockade,  and  the  idea  of  carrying  the  city  by  storm 
was  absurd.  Moreover,  Saladin  was  on  the  alert, 
and  with  his  host  of  Saracens  he  could  not  only  keep 
an  immense  body  within  the  walls  of  the  city,  but 
send  out  numerous  troops  in  all  directions,  who, 
while  the  Crusaders  should  be  fully  occupied  with 
the  exhaustless  demands  of  a  siege,  would  be  enabled 
to  fall  upon  Joppa  and  the  intermediate  positions,  and 
cut  off  the  supplies  from  the  sea-board.  There  was, 
moreover,  the  certainty  of  a  want  of  supply  of  water 
from  the  fact  that  all  the  springs  in  and  about  Jerusa- 
lem had  been  drawn  off,  and  the  army  would  be  de- 
prived of  the  first  essential  to  its  existence,  and  exposed 


206  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

to  all  the  horrors  of  thirst,  in  the  exhausting  and 
parching  heat  of  that  arid  and  hot  climate, 

Richard  now  ha  the  presence  of  all  the  leaders,  the 
first  nobles  and  knights  of  Christendom,  frankly  al- 
luded to  the  factious  conduct  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy and  his  troublesome  French.  Nor  was  he 
less  free  in  his  denunciations  of  the  personal  envy 
and  ill-will  with  which  they  had  been  influenced  in 
slandering  his  motives  and  attempting  to  thwart  all 
his  plans.  "  They  of  France,"  he  said,  "  have  here- 
tofore censured  me  for  my  headstrong  impetuosity, 
and  have  had  the  audacity  to  declare,  that  my  only 
motive  has  been  personal  aggrandizement,  and  that 
the  safety  of  my  people  was  disregarded.  I  see," 
continued  the  chafed  king,  "  the  object  of  such  in 
urging  this  hopeless  attack  on  Jerusalem ;  they 
would  have  me  risk  my  character  in  this  forlorn 
hope,  that  they  may  have  occasion  in  my  defeat,  of 
tarnishing  my  honor,  and  gratifying  their  own  spite." 

Richard  then  proposed  that  the  cmestion  should  be 
submitted  to  the  Knight  Templars  and  Hospitallers, 
and  the  native  barons,  whose  interests  were  chiefly 
at  stake.  This  proposition  was  accepted  and  the 
question  was  submitted  to  five  each  of  the  Templars 
and  Hospitallers,  of  the  Syrian  nobles  and  of  the 
European  Crusaders.  These  twenty  were  then  con- 
voked in  solemn  assembly,  and  having  sworn  to  be 
governed  by  the  good  of  the  cause  alone,  proceeded 
to  deliberate  upon  the  proper  conduct  in  the  emer- 


The  March  to  Jerusalem  given  up.        207 

gency.  The  decision,  whatever  it  might  be,  was  to 
control  without  dispute  the  action  of  the  Crusaders. 
The  conclusion  to  which  this  august  assembly  came, 
was  hi  accordance  with  the  English  king's  opinion, 
that  the  attack  upon  Jerusalem  should  be  abandoned. 
They  moreover  marked  out  a  new  plan  for  opera- 
tions, which  consisted  in  a  march  to  Egypt  and  an 
attack  upon  Cairo,  from  which  place  Saladin  drew 
his  main  supplies. 

Richard  concurred  in  this  new  proposition,  feeling 
himself  bound  by  the  decision  of  the  chosen  council, 
but  the  French,  although  equally  compelled  by  all 
the  laws  of  honor,  to  abide  by  the  resolves  of  a  body 
in  the  appointment  of  which  they  had  had  a  voice, 
and  to  whose  decision  they  had  solemnly  pledged 
themselves  to  submit,  now  murmured  and  openly 
resisted  the  proposition  to  turn  away  from  the  holy 
city.  Ships,  provisions,  and  men,  and  his  own  per- 
sonal aid  were  offered  by  Richard  to  the  French,  to 
induce  them  to  give  in  their  adherence  to  the  pro- 
posed expedition  to  Cairo  ;  but  all  persuasion  was  in 
vain.  They  were  resolved  not  to  concur  in  a  plan 
which  the  English  king  seconded,  and  whom  they  were 
determined  to  thwart  from  a  base  motive  of  envy. 
The  French  were,  in  fact,  the  least  eager  of  all  the 
Crusaders  for  a  bold  and  hazardous  policy,  but  were 
always  ready  for  the  mean  and  cowardly  subterfuge, 
by  which  they  could  safely  indulge  their  hatred  of 
the  great  Norman  hero. 


208  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

The  Duke  of  Burgundy  indulged  himself  in  a 
satirical  effusion  on  the  occasion,  and  wrote  a  lam 
poon  in  verse,  in  which  the  English  king  was  ridi 
culed  for  his  caprice  and  change  of  policy.  This  the 
French  duke  distributed  among  his  soldiers,  and 
strove  by  his  shallow  wit  to  raise  the  laugh  where  he 
had  already  excited  disaffection,  against  the  brave 
Richard.  The  English  king  was  as  able  to  cope  with 
him  with  this  new  weapon,  as  he  was  superior  to 
him  in  arms,  and  retorted  upon  the  Frenchman  with 
a  satirical  poem  on  the  vices  and  weaknesses  of  the 
Duke. 

Richard's  active  spirit  had  soon  occasion  for  that 
exercise  in  which  it  so  much  delighted.  His  spies 
brought  intelligence  that  a  caravan  of  immense  ex- 
tent, and  loaded  with  the  richest  goods,  was  on  the 
road  to  Jerusalem.  The  king  accordingly  determined 
to  possess  himself  of  the  treasure.  He  then  selected 
a  troop  of  his  choicest  men  and  set  out  with  the 
intention  of  falling  upon  the  caravan  near  Gaza,  which 
he  deemed  the  most  convenient  place  on  the  road  for 
the  proposed  attack.  On  arriving  at  this  point,  to 
which  Richard  hurried  on  learning  that  they  were 
encamped  there  for  the  night,  sad  was  his  disappoint- 
ment in  finding  nothing  but  the  ashes  of  the  camp- 
fires,  the  grass  trodden,  as  it  were,  by  countless 
hoofs,  and  the  disgusting  evidences  of  the  halt  of  a 
multitude  sickening  the  surrounding  atmosphere. 
The  Saracens  had  taken  alarm,  and  broken  up  their 


The  Retreat  of  the  Crusaders.  209 

encampment  before  the  dawn  of  day.  The  king 
now  dispatched  after  them  some  of  his  more  skillful 
archers  and  cross-bow  men  on  horseback,  ordering 
them  to  follow,  at  all  speed,  the  track  of  the  caravan, 
and  hang  upon  its  flank,  and  thus  obstruct  its  pro- 
gress until  the  rest  of  the  troops  could  come  up. 
The  caravan  was  overtaken,  the  Saracens  put  to 
flight,  and  the  booty  fell  into  the  hands  of  Richard, 
who,  with  his  usual  generosity,  divided  the  rich  spoil 
among  all  his  soldiers.  The  magnitude  of  the  cara- 
van may  be  estimated,  when  it  is  stated,  that  four 
thousand  seven  hundred  camels  and  dromedaries, 
together  with  numerous  horses,  mules,  and  asses,  all 
laden  with  the  richest  goods  and  products  of  the  East 
were  thus  captured  in  the  lucky  expedition. 

The  sad  day  had  arrived.  The  Crusaders  were 
about  to  turn  their  eyes  from  the  holy  city  to 
which  they  had  so  long  looked  in  hope  and  prayer. 
In  their  religious  enthusiasm  no  sacrifice  had  been 
spared  to  accomplish  what  they  now  abandoned  in 
hopeless  despair.  In  the  far  "West  they  had  left  their 
native  land,  the  comforts  of  home,  and  the  affections 
of  kindred.  In  the  East  they  sought  a  strange 
country  to  which  the  armed  enemy  guarded  every 
approach,  and  where  each  step  was  in  blood.  They 
joyfully  accepted  the  change,  for  above  the  battle- 
cry  the  prayer  whispered  by  the  brave  hearts  of 
those  fighting  for  the  faith,  rose  on  high  and  was 
felt  to  be  accepted,  and  the  blood  which  obscured 
14 


210  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  vision  of  the  sun  on  earth,  and  the  mist  of  death 
which  gathered  on  the  mortal  eye,  neither  darkened 
the  glory  of  God  nor  dimmed  the  heavenly  sight  of 
the  Christian  believer.  Suffering,  danger,  and  death 
were  nothing  in  this  struggle  for  the  Christian  faith, 
for  such  the  Crusaders,  in  their  religious  enthusiasm, 
never  doubted  it  to  be. 

The  king,  though  superior  to  his  age,  and  free 
from  the  blind  fanaticism  of  many  of  his  followers, 
was  still  deeply  moved  by  a  spirit  of  devotional 
feeling,  and  his  religious  sentiment,  in  common  with 
that  of  the  Crusaders,  doubtless  suffered  poignantly 
this  supposed  abandonment  of  the  cause  of  the 
cross.  As  a  warrior,  as  the  acknowledged  leader  of 
the  Christian  chivalry  of  Europe,  as  the  great  hope  in 
the  warfare  of  the  Crusaders,  as  the  ambitious  con- 
queror, the  lion-hearted  Richard  felt  this  retreat,  in 
the  sight  of  an  enemy,  this  sacrifice  of  the  last  grand 
triumph,  this  abandonment  of  the  noblest  prize  of 
all,  while  almost  within  his  grasp,  as  a  blow  that 
nearly  crushed  his  great  heart. 

Early  in  the  morning,  before  the  Crusaders  com- 
menced their  march  in  retreat  from  Jerusalem,  the 
king  rode,  full-armed,  in  company  with  a  brave 
knight,  a  bosom  friend,  to  the  summit  of  a  neigh- 
boring hill  from  which  Jerusalem  could  be  seen  in 
the  distance,  with  the  purpose  of  taking  a  last  view 
of  the  holy  city.  Richard,  however,  as  his  com- 
panion directed  his  attention  to  the  turrets  of  Jerusa- 


The  Sad  March.  211 

Jem,  which  now  began  to  rise  to  the  view,  as  they 
turned  in  their  path  up  the  mountain,  placed  his 
shield  before  his  eyes  and  said,  that  he  was  not 
worthy  to  look  upon  that  holy  city  which  he  had 
failed  to  redeem. 

Every  soldier  felt  the  sadness  of  that  hour  when 
the  Crusaders  took  up  their  march  from  Bethanopolis 
westward.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  bugles  and  trum- 
pets sounded  the  most  cheering  notes;  the  army 
wore  that  air  of  sorrow  and  discouragement  which 
betokened  that  they  were  no  longer  in  the  advancing 
path  of  victory  and  glory,  but  in  the  receding  steps 
of  retreat  and  misfortune.  The  martial  airs  of  the 
trumpeters  were  so  little  in  accordance  with  the 
depressed  heart  of  the  Crusaders  that  they  were  soon 
silenced,  and  the  army  marched  on  with  arms 
reversed  and  in  silence,  as  if  mourning  for  the  death 
of  their  cause. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  Crusaders  at  Joppa,  on  the 
sea-coast,  the  complete  demoralization  of  the  troops 
became  apparent.  The  common  cause  no  longer 
existed  as  a  common  bond  of  sympathy.  National 
jealousies  now  began  to  show  themselves,  and  put 
an  end  to  all  discipline  and  unity  of  action.  The 
French,  under  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  as  usual,  were 
the  first  to  break  out  in  factious  disorder,  and  finally 
refusing  to  follow  the  English  king  any  farther,  sepa- 
rated from  the  main  army  and  took  up  their  quarters 
at  Csesarea.     Others  of  the  various  nations  dispersed 


212  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

in  different  directions,  some  to  Acre  and  some  to 
Tyre.  Richard  now  found  that  it  would  be  absurd, 
with  an  army  so  reduced  by  desertion,  and  dis- 
couraged by  disappointment,  to  continue  the  Cru- 
sade, and  he  accordingly  gave  up  all  hope  of  marching 
into  Egypt,  and  prepared  to  embark  his  troops  for 
England.  Before  leaving,  however,  in  order  to 
secure  a  safe  retreat  for  the  Crusaders,  he  proposed 
terms  for  a  truce  with  Saladin.  This  Saracen  leader, 
always  vigilant,  and  as  energetic  to  meet  as  he  was 
quick  to  see  an  emergency,  had  discovered  the 
plight  to  which  the  disorganization  of  the  Christian 
army  had  reduced  them,  and  prepared  to  strike  a 
blow,  now  that  they  appeared  unable  to  resist  it. 
Saladin  mustered  from  all  quarters  the  largest  body 
of  troops  ever  ai'rayed  under  his  standard,  and  from 
his  position  at  Jerusalem  was  prepared  to  crush  the 
scattered  remnant  of  the  Christian  forces.  He  felt, 
therefore,  that  he  was  more  entitled  to  dictate  terms 
than  Richard,  and  accordingly  insisted,  as  a  condition 
of  the  proposed  truce,  that  the  fortifications  of  Asca- 
lcn  should  be  dismantled.  The  English  king  per- 
emptorily refused  this  proposition,  and  the  hopes  of 
a  truce  were  at  an  end.  Hostilities  now  commenced. 
Saladin,  watching  his  opportunity,  which  the  depar- 
ture of  Richard  from  Joppa  gave  him,  prepared  to 
make  an  assault  upon  this  sea-port  town.  Richard, 
on  his  part,  having  marched  from  Joppa,  where  the 
sick  and  wounded  had  been  left,  proceeded  to  Acre 


Desperate  Position  of  Joppa.  213 

and  made  ready  his  vessels  that  he  might  ba  pre- 
pared to  embark  at  any  moment.  The  Hospitallers 
and  Templars  were  sent  to  strengthen  the  garrison 
at  Ascalon,  they  having  been  directed  to  level  to  the 
ground,  on  their  march,  the  fortifications  of  Damascus, 
as  a  sufficient  force  could  not  be  spared  to  sustain 
a  siege. 

Saladin  soon  reached  Joppa,  and  began  to  invest 
that  city  with  great  spirit.  In  five  days  from  the 
commencement  of  their  assault,  the  Saracens  suc- 
ceeded in  destroying  a  large  portion  of  the  walls ; 
and  making  their  way  into  the  city  through  the 
breach,  massacred  every  Christian  they  met.  The 
citadel,  however,  held  out,  and  was  gallantly  defended 
by  a  small  band  of  brave  soldiers,  with  the  Patriarch 
of  Jerusalem  at  their  head.  The  rest  of  the  garrison, 
with  the  Governor  of  Joppa,  ingloriously  took  to 
their  heels,  and  embarking  on  board  the  vessels  in 
the  harbor,  secured  their  own  safety,  for  which  they 
only  cared,  by  sailing  out  of  the  reach  of  harm. 
The  situation  of  the  remnant  of  brave  men  in  the 
citadel  was  desperate.  Saladin  concentrated  his 
whole  immense  force  upon  this  solitary  point  of  resist- 
ance. His  engines  and  battering-rams  were  worked 
with  great  vigor,  and  the  walls  of  the  citadel  were 
fast  yielding.  The  Patriarch  of  Jerusalem,  aware  of 
his  desperate  condition,  now  threw  out  a  signal  of 
truce,  and  offered  to  yield  up  the  fortress  on  the  next 
day,  provided   their  brethren  did  not  in   the  mean 


£14  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

time  come  to  the  rescue.  The  Patriarch  and  several 
of  the  knights  then  offered  to  give  themselves  up 
to  the  Saracens  as  hostages  for  the  fulfillment  of  the 
terms  of  the  truce.     Saladin  assented. 

The  day  arrived,  and  the  brave  garrison  made 
ready  to  surrender,  when  some  English  vessels  were 
descried  making  for  the  port.  Richard  having  heard 
at  Acre,  where  he  had  arrived,  of  the  straits  to 
which  the  garrison  at  Joppa  was  reduced,  made 
ready  at  once  to  hasten  to  its  relief.  He  embarked 
all  the  forces  he  could  collect  at  Acre,  and  setting 
sail,  steered  for  Joppa.  The  Count  of  Champagne, 
at  the  head  of  the  Knight  Templars  and  Hospitallers, 
marched  by  land.  The  French  refused  to  cooperate, 
and  no  persuasion  could  induce  them  to  change  their 
purpose.  The  king's  fleet  was  detained  by  opposing 
winds,  and  did  not  arrive  at  Joppa,  as  we  have  seen, 
until  the  very  day  when  the  garrison  was  to  be 
delivered  up  to  the  mercy  of  the  Turk. 

Richard,  as  he  neared  the  harbor,  was  in  a  state 
of  anxious  uncertainty  as  to  whether  he  had  arrived 
in  time.  He  was  eagerly  on  the  look-out  for  some 
signal  from  the  garrison,  by  which  he  might  learn 
its  fate.  As  he  was  sharply  scanning  every  line  of 
the  fortress,  from  base  to  summit,  and  every  bend 
in  the  shore,  his  quick  eye  caught  at  some  object  in 
the  water,  which  seemed  rapidly  to  near  his  vessel. 
He  stood  on  the  bow,  gazing  intently  at  it,  when  he 
thought    he   could   observe   signs   of   life.      As  it 


Richard  to  the  Rescue.  215 

approached  closer  and  closer,  he  could  see  that  it 
was  some  stout  swimmer  who  was  throwing  out  his ' 
arms  with  great  vigor,  and  making  directly  for  the 
ship.  A  boat  was  lowered  with  all  dispatch,  and 
with  a  few  strong  pulls  met  the  bold  swimmer,  who 
proved  to  be  a  stout  priest,  who  had  thus  courage- 
ously made  off  from  the  land  to  communicate  to 
Richard  the  condition  of  things  in  the  citadel.  With 
breathless  haste  he  stated  that  there  was  no  time  to 
lose,  for  the  last  hour  of  the  garrison  was  approach- 
ing— that  ere  the  sun  rose  above  yonder  turrets  the 
fate  of  the  Christians  would  be  sealed,  and  every 
man  probably  put  to  death.  He  entreated  the  king 
to  make  all  speed  and  relieve  his  brethren  from  their 
impending  misfortune.  The  brave  Richard  needed 
no  entreaty.  To  know  that  his  fellow-Christians 
were  in  danger  was  enough  to  move  the  generous 
impulses  of  his  soul,  and  cause  him  to  lift  that 
mighty  arm,  so  potent  to  save  a  friend  or  destroy  an 
enemy.  The  king  ordered  on  the  instant  all  hands 
to  the  oars,  and  urged  them  by  his  inspiriting  words 
to  pull  right  for  the  shore.  His  own  vessel  led  the 
van  of  the  fleet.  In  the  mean  time  the  Saracens 
crowded  down  upon  the  shore,  with  their  bow-men 
and  slingers,  and  determined  to  prevent  the  landing 
of  Richard  and  his  men  at  all  hazards.  As  soon  as 
the  vessels  came  within  the  cast  of  an  arrow,  the 
enemy  poured  upon  them  such  a  volley  of  missiles 
of  all  kinds  that  the  steersmen  could  hardly  see  their 


216  The  Lion-Hearted  King, 

course.  Richard,  however,  was  prepared  for  this 
attack,  and  protected  his  approach  by  his  own 
famous  English  archers,  who,  by  their  superior  aim 
and  stouter  pull,  drove  back  the  Saracen  host.  The 
oarsmen  pulled  with  hearty  "vigor,  and  drove  the 
galleys  right  upon  the  shore.  In  consequence  of  the 
draught  of  the  vessels,  there  was  still  a  consider- 
able depth  of  water,  although  the  keels  touched  bot- 
tom. The  king,  without  a  moment's  hesitation, 
shouting  out, ."  Cursed  be  he  that  followeth  me  not !" 
sprung  overboard  up  to  his  arm-pits,  followed  by  his 
faithful  knights,  and  then  pushed  on  to  the  land. 
Richard  dashed  ahead,  and  was  soon  in  the  midst  of 
the  Saracens,  laying  about  him  with  his  usual  fero- 
cious valor,  and  spreading  death  and  alarm  every- 
where. The  Saracens  were  soon  driven  back  to  the 
city,  where  they  were  met  by  the  garrison  issuing 
out  from  the  citadel,  and  being  thus  caught  between 
two  opposing  forces,  suffered  terribly,  and,  dispersed 
in  all  directions,  fled  as  they  could  through  the 
various  outlets  of  the  city.  Joppa  was  thus  again 
in  the  possession  of  the  Crusaders. 

Saladin's  pride  as  a  soldier  was  deeply  wounded 
on  account  of  the  defeat  of  his  forces  by  so  insigni- 
ficant an  array  of  the  enemy  on  the  score  of  num- 
ber, and  he  determined  to  wipe  away  the  disgrace. 
He  accordingly  resolved  to  attack  the  Crusaders  at 
once,  before  they  could  be  strengthened  by  the 
arrival  of  Henry  of  Champagne,  who,  as  has  been 


Richard  in  Danger.  217 

6tated,  had  set  out  from  Acre,  at  the  head  of  the 
Templars   and   Hospitallers,  and  was  marching  by- 
land  to  the  relief  of  Joppa.     This  reinforcement  for- 
tunately arrived  in  the  night,  previous  to  the  day  on 
which  Saladin  had  resolved  to  make  his  onset.     The 
Saracens  made  their  preparations  with  great  caution, 
and   intended   to   take   the   Christians  by  surprise. 
Saladin  accordingly  drew  out  his  forces  before  the 
break  of  day,  and  marched  with  the  utmost  silence 
toward  the  camp  of  the  Crusaders,  hoping  to  come 
upon  "them  unawares.     A  part  of  Saladin's  design 
was   to   seize   Richard   in    his   tent,   while    asleep. 
Accordingly  a  troop  of  horse,  under  the  command 
of  a  discreet  and  trusty  Turk,  was  detailed  for  this 
special  purpose ;  and  orders  were  given  that  they 
should  cautiously  approach  the  tent  of  the  English 
king,  and  having  mastered  the  guards,  seize  upon 
Richard,  and  gallop  off  with  him  to  the  rear  of  the 
Turkish  army.     These  orders  were  strictly  obeyed  ; 
and  the  Saracens  succeeded  in  passing  the  outposts 
and  wending  their  way  between  the  scattered  tents 
of  the    Christian    encampment,   concealed    by    the 
obscurity  of  the  early  hour  and  the  caution   with 
which   they   approached.     They  passed  unobserved 
until  within  a  horse's  leap  of  the  tent  where  the  king 
was  asleep,  and  totally  unconscious  of  his  imminent 
danger.     The  neighing  of  one  of  the  horses,  at  this 
moment,  aroused  a  Genoese  who  was  near  the  royal 
tent,  and  he  shouted  out  the  war-cry   and   aroused 


218  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

every  Crusader  in  the  camp.  There  was  no  time  for 
delay ;  and  the  Christians  issiied  from  their  tents  as 
they  were,  some  of  them,  only  half-armed.  The 
Saracens  were  all  drawn  up  ready  for  a  charge,  and 
a  large  troop  had  already,  as  we  have  seen,  pene- 
trated within  the  camp  ;  and  had  they  at  once  made 
a  vigorous  onslaught,  while  the  Crusaders  were  in  a 
state  of  confusion,  the  day  would  have  been  fatal  to 
Richard.  Saladin,  however,  finding  that  his  attempt 
had  failed,  and  that  the  Christians  were  aroused, 
hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  commanded  a  halt.  This 
delay  gave  the  king,  whose  mind  was  ever  fertile  in 
conception  and  his  will  quick  in  execution,  time  to 
arrange  a  plan  of  defense,  which  was  put  in  opera- 
tion on  the  instant. 

The  forces  of  the  Crusaders  were  so  few,  in  com- 
parison with  the  overwhelming  numbers  of  the 
Saracens,  that  he  saw  his  only  chance  was  to  act  on 
the  defensive  until  he  could  tire  out  the  enemy,  or 
so  divide  up  their  formidable  front  into  those  sepa- 
rate skirmishing  parties,  with  which  he  knew  Sala- 
din, with  his  usual  tactics,  would  attempt  to  assail 
the  Crusaders.  Richard  accordingly  formed  his 
force  into  a  solid  square,  and  issued  the  order  that 
under  no  circumstances  should  a  soldier  break  the 
ranks,  attempt  a  charge,  or  engage  in  pursuit.  The 
whole  of  his  infantry,  which  was  composed  of 
spearmen  and  archers,  arrayed  two  by  two,  was  thus 
arranged  in  a  solid  phalanx.  Behind  the  square,  Rich- 


Another  Battle.  219 

ard  himself,  with  a  group  of  ten  knights,  took  up  his 
position.  These  eleven  were  the  only  men  mounted 
in  the  whole  force,  to  such  a  destitute  condition  had 
the  Crusaders  been  reduced  by  desertion  and  mis- 
fortune. 

The  battle  began.  Saladin  charged  impetuously 
with  his  cavalry  upon  the  solid  square,  but  without 
making  the  least  impression  upon  the  firm,  iron- 
nerved  men.  They  withstood  the  shock  without  a 
perceptible  movement.  Again  and  again,  for  seven 
successive  times,  the  Saracens  charged,  but  the 
Crusaders  stood  firm.  Saladin  finding  that  these 
onsets  were  unavailing  against  the  unmoved  enemy, 
and  dreadfully  destructive  to  his  own  cavalry,  who 
impaled  themselves  at  each  charge  by  hundreds  upon 
the  pikes  of  the  spearmen,  or  fell  from  their  saddles 
in  their  retreat,  pierced  by  the  sure  arrows  of  the 
English  bowmen,  determined  to  change  his  tactics. 
The  Saracens  accordingly  drew  off"  at  some  distance, 
and  distributing  themselves  in  detached  parties 
commenced  a  discharge  of  spears  and  arrows  from 
all  sides  upon  the  Crusaders.  This  was  what  Rich- 
ard expected,  and  now  giving  the  word  to  his 
knightly  companions,  he  sallied  out  and  made  at 
once  for  the  enemy.  Eleven  men  against  as  many 
thousands,  a  fearful  difference,  which  seemed  to  be- 
token nothing  but  certain  death  to  the  English  king 
and  his  devoted  knights.  But,  trusting  to  their  per- 
sonal  strength,  thfir  marvellous    courage,  and  the 


220  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

terror  of  their  names,  the  lion-hearted  hero  and  his 
brave  followers  did  not  hesitate  to  plunge  into  the 
very  midst  of  the  enemy.  At  the  first  charge 
Richard  and  his  knights  bore  down  the  front  ranks 
and  fought  their  way  at  once  into  the  thickest,  sur- 
rounded on  all  sides  by  the  host  of  Saracens.  The 
king  and  his  knights  were  no  longer  able  in  the 
struggle  to  keep  together,  and  each  one  had  to  fight 
his  own  battle.  The  deeds  of  these  men  on  that 
day  are  beyond  any  thing  recorded  in  history.  Each 
one  was  contending  against  hundreds.  Aytoun 
says  eleven  against  seven  thousand.  All  the  accounts 
are  such  that  we  would  hesitate  to  believe  them 
were  they  not  as  well  authenticated  as  other  facts  to 
which  we  can  not  refuse  credence.  What  ever  mor- 
tal man  could  do  or  dare  was  dared  and  done  by 
Cceur-de-Lion,  says  the  same  writer  whom  we  have 
quoted  above,  and  in  whose  glowing  account  of  this 
battle  the  wonders  of  the  old  historians  lose  nothing 
of  their  marvellous  character.  Each  man  drew  his 
sword  and  struck  down  right  and  left  the  thronging 
Turks  who  pressed  forward  certain,  with  such  odds 
in  their  favor,  of  making  captive  Richard  and  his  ten 
companions.  Clad  in  steel,  these  brave  warriors 
shook  off  the  scimitars  and  spears  which  rained 
down  upon  them,  and  seemed  as  invulnerable  as 
Homer's  gods.  Richard's  prowess  that  day  was 
superhuman,  he  outdid  himself,  and  his  blow  was  as 
sure  and  terrific  as  that  of  death  in  a  pestilence.    H6 


A   Victory.  221 

repeatedly  rescued  his  brave  knights  who  had  been 
borne  down  in  the  struggle  by  the  overpowering  num- 
bers of  the  enemy.  The  Earl  of  Leicester,  the  brave 
baron,  who  had  stood  by  Eichard  throughout  the 
Crusade  as  his  right-hand  man  through  every  danger, 
in  the  breach  or  in  the  battle,  performed  wonderful 
deeds  of  valor,  but,  his  horse  having  been  killed 
beneath  him,  he  would  surely  have  died  on  that  day 
a  warrior's  death,  had  not  Richard  fought  his  way  to 
him  and  mounted  him  again  upon  a  charger,  from 
the  saddle  of  which  the  king  dashed  off  with  one 
blow  the  Saracen  rider. 

Saladin  himself  could  not  withhold  his  admiration 
of  the  stupendous  deeds  of  valor  of  the  great  Richard, 
and  gave  proof  of  it  when  the  struggle  was  at  its 
height.  The  Saracen  having  observed  that  Richard 
had  been  dismounted,  and  was  fighting  on  foot,  sent 
him  a  splendid  Arabian  horse.  The  king  mounted 
it  and  dashed  into  the  fight. 

Richard  finding  that  a  portion  of  the  enemy  had 
taken  advantage  of  the  absence  of  the  garrison 
during  the  battle  and  entered  the  city  of  Joppa, 
made  his  way  out  of  the  midst  of  the  struggle,  and 
ordering  up  a  detachment  of  his  archers,  led  them 
against  the  intruders.  They  were  driven  out,  and 
Richard  returned  to  the  battle-field,  where  he  soon 
settled  the  day  by  the  effectual  way  in  which  he 
dealt  with  an  emir  who  was  leading  the  attack  of  the 
Saracens.     With  one   blow  the   king    severed    the 


222  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Turk's  head  and  right  arm.  His  troops  lost  courage 
in  consequence  of  the  death  of  their  leader  and  fled, 
leaving  the  Crusaders  the  conquerors  of  the  day. 

In  the  battle  the  Christians  lost  only  two  men, 
who  were  common  soldiers,  while  the  Saracens  left 
seven  hundred  stretched  in  death  upon  the  field. 
The  forces  engaged  were  only  five  hundred  on  the 
part  of  the  Crusaders,  and  more  than  seven  thousand 
on  the  side  of  the  enemy. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE  wonderful  exertions  of  Richard  on  the 
battle-field  of  Joppa,  his  anxious  solicitude 
about  the  safety  of  his  throne  in  England,  and  his 
forced  abandonment  of  the  cause  so  dear  to  his  heart, 
prostrated  the  king  in  body  and  mind  to  such  a 
degree,  that  he  became  a  ready  victim  to  the  pre- 
vailing disease  of  the  climate.  A  violent  fever  laid 
him  prostrate  on  his  bed.  The  monarch,  though 
suffering  in  the  agonies  of  disease,  and  overshadowed, 
as  it  were,  by  the  wings  of  impending  death,  thought 
little  of  his  own  fate,  but  calmly  busied  himself 
about  his  followers,  who  looked  to  him,  even  in  his 
prostration,  as  their  only  hope  and  support  The 
English  now  only  numbered  five  hundred  all  told ; 
and  the  ever-active  Saladin  was  gathering  again 
his  hordes  to  crush  the  brave  remnant  of  Richard's 
force.  The  English  king,  in  spite  of  his  sickness 
and  the  mere  handful  of  men  left  to  fight  against 
the  thousands  of  the  enemy,  was  yet  bold  in  heart, 
and  prepared  to  strike  another  blow.  Henry  of 
Champagne  was  instructed  to  negotiate  with  the 
French  who  were  at  Acre  for  their  assistance.  The 
D^'t  of  Burgundy,  their  leader,  however,  having  been 


224  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

attacked  by  the  same  disease  (from  which  there  was 
no  hope  of  recovery  in  his  case)  as  Richard,  rendered 
this  negotiation  hopeless.  This  intelligence  was 
brought  to  the  monarch,  who,  nothing  daunted,  beg- 
ged that  he  himself  might  be  conveyed  to  Ascalon, 
where,  as  long  as  breath  remained  in  his  weakened 
body,  he  would  resist  the  infidel ;  and  he  declared 
that  the  last  agony  of  death  should  be  a  struggle  for 
the  cause  of  the  cross.  His  friends,  however,  who 
knew  that  the  king  was  their  only  hope,  and  saw  in 
his  illness  and  probable  death  the  certain  defeat  of 
the  Crusaders,  remonstrated  with  the  spirited  Rich- 
ard. They  told  him  that  his  followers  were  now  so 
reduced  in  numbers,  and  so  dispirited  by  the  sick- 
ness of  their  leader,  that  they  could  never  resist  the 
Saracen,  and  total  ruin  would  be  the  result  of  further 
hostilities.  They  urged  him,  therefore,  now  that  the 
glorious  victory  at  Joppa  had  struck  a  wholesome 
terror  into  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  to  establish  a 
truce  with  Saladin.  They  might  thus  secure  a  safe 
departure  for  the  Crusaders,  and  the  possession  to 
Christendom  of  some  of  its  hard-won  conquests.  The 
king  yielded  to  these  entreaties,  and  proposed  terms 
to  the  Saracens.  A  truce  was  established  for  three 
years,  three  months,  three  weeks,  and  three  days — a 
magic  number,  says  Hume,  which  had  been  probably 
devised  by  the  Europeans,  and  which  was  suggested 
by  a  superstition  well  suited  to  the  object  of  the 
war.     According  to  the  terms  of  this  truce,  all  the 


The  Crusaders  at  Jerusalem.  225 

fortresses  in  the  possession  of  the  Crusaders,  taken 
since  the  conquest  of  Acre,  were  to  be  demolished. 
All  the  country  on  the  sea-board  west  of  the  moun- 
tains which  extend  their  chain  north  and  south 
through  the  centre  of  Palestine,  was  to  remain  to 
the  Christians,  and  the  rest,  with  the  exception  of 
Ascalon,  was  to  be  given  up  to  Saladin.  In  regard 
to  this  place,  it  was  agreed  that  it  should  belong  to 
neither  party  until  the  expiration  of  the  truce,  when 
it  should  be  ceded  to  the  stronger.  The  Christians, 
moreover,  were  to  be  permitted  to  worship  at  the 
Holy  Sepulchre  without  hindrance  of  tax,  insult,  or 
persecution. 

This  privilege  of  entering  Jerusalem  as  pilgrims, 
was  joyfully  accepted  by  the  Crusaders,  and  they 
eagerly  availed  themselves  of  it.  Richard  himself 
did  not  go  to  Jerusalem.  His  proud  heart  would 
not  accept  as  a  favor  what  fate  had  refused  to  him 
as  the  right  of  a  conqueror.  His  devotional  feeling 
was  always  in  subjection  to  his  warrior  spirit ;  and 
to  fight  for  the  conquest  of  the  Holy  City  was  more 
in  conformity  with  his  character,  than  to  fall  down  in 
worship  as  a  devotee  at  the  tomb  of  our  Saviour, 
while  he  bent  his  body  in  supplication  to  an  earthly 
potentate. 

The  king  was  carried  to  Caiaphas,  where  it  was 
hoped  his  health  might  benefit  by  the  change. 
Previous  to  his  departure,  the  most  frequent  inter- 
change of  courtesies  took  place  between  Richard  and 
15 


226  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Saladin,  who,  although  they  never  met  in  person, 
held  each  other  in  great  honor  for  their  mutual 
chivalry.  Saphadin,  however,  the  brother  of  the 
Saracen  monarch,  accompanied  by  many  of  the  moat 
distinguished  of  the  Turkish  officers,  frequently 
repaired  to  the  English  camp,  and  were  received  with 
every  courtesy  and  mark  of  distinction. 

While  Richard  was  at  Caiaphas,  where  he  rapidly 
gained  in  health  and  strength,  his  army  visited,  in 
accordance  with  the  truce  with  Saladin,  the  Holy 
City.  While  the  Christian  soldiers  were  thus 
gathered  in  worship  at  the  sepulchre,  the  fierce  Sara- 
cens would  have  fallen  upon  them ;  but  Saladin  pro- 
tected the  Crusaders  from  the  vengeance  and  the 
malignant  hatred  of  his  bigoted  subjects.  The 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  whose  hand  was  more  used  to 
the  sword  than  the  crozier,  was  among  the  pious 
visitors  to  Jerusalem,  and  was  received  with  especial 
favor  by  the  Sultan.  Saladin  admitted  the  bishop  to 
a  private  interview,  in  the  course  of  which  all  cere- 
mony was  laid  aside,  and  the  two  indulged  in  the 
most  intimate  and  familiar  talk.  The  Sultan  ex- 
pressed his  high  admiration  of  King  Richard  and  his 
brave  followers,  and  was  anxious  to  hear  in  what 
estimation  he  himself  was  held  by  those  he  so  greatly 
honored  for  their  valor.  "  What  say  your  men  of 
your  king  and  of  me  V  inquired  Saladin.  "  My 
king,"  replied  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  "  is  acknow- 
ledged as  one  surpassing  all  other  men  in  deeds  of 


The  Courtesy  of  Saladin.  227 

valor  and  generosity.  But,"  added  the  bishop  in  his 
sacred  character,  "  your  fame  also  stands  high  ;  and 
were  you  but  converted  from  your  unbelief,  thero 
would  not  be  in  the  world  two  such  princes  as  you 
and  Eichard."  The  Sultan  acknowledged  the  mighty 
courage  and  generous  soul  of  the  English  monarch, 
but  justly  censured  his  headstrong  impetuosity  and 
reckless  courage.  "I  would  rather,"  remarked 
Saladin,  "  be  renowned  for  prudence  than  for  auda- 
city." The  bishop  was  then  asked  if  there  was  any 
favor  the  Sultan  could  grant  him,  to  which  he  replied 
that  there  was  one  which  might  be  of  inestimable 
benefit  to  the  Christian  Church,  of  which  he  was  an 
unworthy  servant.  The  liberal-minded  Turk  then 
granted,  in  accordance  with  the  Christian  bishop's 
request,  permission  for  the  establishment  of  two 
priests  and  deacons  at  Jerusalem,  Nazareth,  and 
Bethlehem,  that  they  might  be  ready  to  aid  the  pil- 
grims from  the  West  in  their  worship  at  these  holy 
places.  There  is  a  spirit  of  heavenly  charity  in 
these  noble  courtesies  of  the  great  Saladin,  which 
emanated  from  a  spark  of  divine  love,  though 
enkindled  in  a  heathen  heart,  from  which  the  cold- 
nearted  professor  of  Christianity  might  derive,  in 
contemplation,  the  glow  of  spiritual  warmth  he  so 
much  needs.  Much  less  of  the  polemics  of  theology, 
and  a  little  more  of  the  Gospel  of  peace,  would  have 
done  for  the  cause  of  the  cross  what  the  Crusaders 
failed  to  do.     The  gentle  word  of  hope,  and  the  kind 


228  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

net  of  mercy,  would,  have  been  more  effectual  than 
the  cry  of  battle  and  the  deed  of  blood. 

Richard,  who  had  recovered,  and  had  done  his  best 
for  the  cause  in  which  he  was  so  deeply  interested, 
was  now  prepared  to  depart.  The  terms  of  his 
truce  with  Saladin  were  more  favorable  than  he  had 
any  reason  to  expect.  It  was  not  so  much  the  power 
which  he  "wielded  as  the  name  he  bore,  to  which  ho 
was  indebted  for  his  success.  The  English  king  by 
his  valor  and  his  almost  marvellous  prowess  had 
gained  for  him  a  fame  that  it  is  difficult  to  estimate 
at  this  day,  when  individual  character  is  so  lost  in 
the  general  progress.  In  the  wars  of  the  olden  time 
every  thing  depended  upon  personal  courage  and 
physical  strength.  The  spirit  to  dare,  the  will  to 
command,  and  the  strong  muscle  to  obey,  were  the 
great  requisites  for  success,  and  he  who  could  bring 
them  to  his  service  was  sure  to  prove  his  mastery. 
Richard  had  all  these  beyond  any  man  of  his  age. 
His  heart  was  the  boldest,  his  frame,  which  was 
gigantic,  the  most  muscular,  and  his  energy  the  most 
active  of  any  warrior  of  his  times.  With  a  fair  occa- 
sion for  the  exercise  of  Ins  transcendent  powers,  as 
the  king  of  a  warlike  people,  in  a  warlike  age,  he 
had  but  to  show  himself  in  the  eye  of  the  world,  to  be 
recognized  at  once  as  its  master.  Mankind  might 
as  well  have  disputed  the  firmness  of  the  rock,  the 
towering  height  of  the  mountain,  the  power  of  the 
storm,  the  unfathomable  capacity  of  the  sea,  or  any 


The  Dread  Name.  229 

other  of  the  facts  of  nature,  as  question  the  supe- 
riority of  the  mighty  king.  Friend  and  foe  alike 
beheld,  wondered,  and  believed. 

In  Palestine,  which  was  the  scene  of  Richard's 
greatest  deeds,  his  name  became  a  terror  to  all  for 
ages.  The  Saracen  mothers  would  hush  their  child- 
ren into  silence  by  raising  the  threatening  finger  and 
whispering,  "  Be  still,  King  Richard  will  come."  The 
Saracen  horseman,  too,  if  Iris  horse  plunged  or  startled, 
would,  as  he  spurred  him  on,  exclaim,  "  What's  the 
matter  1  Do  you  think  King  Richard  is  in  the  bush  ?" 
Nor  can  we  have  any  stronger  illustration  of  the 
dread  of  his  great  name  than  the  favorable  truce 
Saladin,  one  of  the  ablest  warriors  of  the  day,  so 
willingly  conceded  to  the  English  king.  Richard 
from  a  bed  of  sickness,  with  his.force  reduced  to  a 
miserable  remnant  of  scarce  five  hundred,  conscious 
of  their  danger,  and  anxious  for  safety,  dictated 
terms  to  the  able  and  powerful  Saladin  at  the  head 
of  thousands.  Such  was  the  prestige  of  the  English 
king's  dread  name. 

Richard  was  now  ready  to  leave  for  England. 
He  first  dispatched  his  fleet  from  Acre,  retaining  a 
single  vessel  for  himself.  He  made  every  arrange- 
ment for  the  security  and  comfort  of  his  remnant  of 
brave  followers,  and  for  his  queen  Berengaria,  his  sis- 
ter Joan,  and  the  Cypriot  princess,  who  now  sailed 
with  the  fleet.  He  was  aware  of  the  King  of 
France's  designs  and  his  brother  John's  treachery, 


230  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

and  therefore  determined  to  travel  homeward 
secretly,  that  they  might  be  unable  to  make  pre- 
parations to  oppose  his  landing.  By  his  sudden 
appearance  among  his  subjects,  he  believed  that  he 
would  be  received  by  them,  when  once  in  their 
midst,  with  acclamation,  and  the  artful  plans  of 
Philip  and  the  usurpation  of  his  brother  be  neutra- 
lized. He  kept  his  own  counsel  so  closely  that 
those  knights  even  who  sailed  for  England  were  not 
aware  of  his  plans.  He  bid  them  farewell  with  an 
injunction,  if  they  should  find  him  in  his  kingdom,  to 
rally  at  once  to  his  standard,  or  if  not,  to  await  his 
coming,  prepared  for  the  event.  To  the  Grand-Mas- 
ter of  the  Templars  he  was  more  communicative. 
To  him  he  explained  his  intention  and  his  motives  ; 
there  are  many,  the  king  said,  who  bore  him  no  love, 
and  would  be  happy  if  they  could  seize  him,  and 
would  certainly  slay  him  if  he  fell  in  their  power. 
He  had,  therefore,  resolved  to  travel  in  disguise,  and 
asked  for  an  escort  of  Templars  to  accompany  him, 
that  he  might  appear  in  Europe  as  one  of  that  order. 
A  few  of  the  trustiest  of  them  were  therefore 
placed  at  his  disposal,  and  hi  addition,  his  own 
adherents,  Baldewin  de  Bethune,  William  de  L'Es- 
tang,  Philip  the  secretary,  and  Anselm  the  chaplain, 
joined  the  party. 

Richard  finally  embarked,  in  the  month  of  Octo- 
ber, in  the  year  1192,  on  board  of  a  galley  and  set 
sail  from  the  Holy  Land.     The  next  morning,  as  the 


Departs  from  the  Holy  Land.  231 

vessel  was  leaving  the  shores  of  Palestine,  the  hills 
of  Lebanon  and  the  other  mountains  of  Syria  being 
still  hi  view,  the  king  stretched  out  his  arms  toward 
the  land  and  exclaimed,  as  he  took  his  last  look, 
"Most  holy  land,  I  commend  thee  to  God's  keeping. 
May  he  give  me  life  and  health  to  return  and  rescue 
thee  from  the  infidel !" 

The  fleet  had  sailed  several  days  before  Richard's 
vessel,  but  they  were  all  exposed  to  the  same  storm 
which  arose.  It  was  the  season  of  tempests  in  the 
Mediterranean  and  they  were  caught  by  one  of 
unusual  severity.  The  fleet  was  scattered  by  the 
wind,  and  some  of 'the  ships  driven  upon  the  inhospi- 
table shores  of  Africa,  where  the  crew  and  soldiers 
were  sold  into  slavery,  and  otherwise  barbarously 
treated.  The  ship  which  bore  the  queen,  her  hus- 
band's sister,  and  the  princess  of  Cyprus  put  into  a 
harbor  in  the  island  of  Sicily  with  trifling  damage. 
Richard's  vessel,  which  had  taken  a  course  farther 
north,  was  driven,  by  stress  of  weather,  to  take  refuge 
at  the  island  of  Corfu,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Gulf  of 
Venice,  where  he  arrived  in  the  month  of  November. 
Abandoning  his  damaged  vessel,  he  hired  three  small 
galleys,  and  embarking  again  sailed  northward  up  the 
gulf,  hi  the  course  of  his  voyage  he  was  in  consider- 
able danger  from  the  Greek  pirates,  who  swarmed  in 
those  seas,  but  he  succeeded,  by  the  good  sailing  quali- 
ties of  his  vessels,  in  escaping  these  ruthless  corsairs, 
and  came  to  anchor  in  safetv  at  Zara,  on  the  coast  of 


232  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Dalmatia.  Richard  had  assumed  the  disguise  of  a 
humble  pilgrim,  and  as  his  hair  and  beard  had 
grown  long  and  his  former  rotundity  of  person  had, 
through  sickness  and  anxiety,  grown  thin,  while  his 
usual  hearty  look  had  assumed  somewhat  of  a  care- 
worn expression,  he  made  a  very  passable  palmer  in 
appearance.  On  landing,  however,  he  forgot  his 
new  character,  since  the  cowl  don't  make  the  monk, 
and  was  so  profusely  generous  with  his  gold,  and  so 
debonair  withal,  that  his  royalty  was  surmised  at 
once. 

Trieste  was  the  point  to  which  Richard  now  di- 
rected Ins  course,  but  a  storm  drove  him  ashore  on 
the  coast  of  Istria,  at  some  distance  from  this  Aus- 
trian port.  From  thence  he  determined  to  proceed 
by  land,  and  disguising  himself  as  a  merchant,  tra- 
velled on  to  Goritz,  a  town  north  of  the  city  of  Trieste, 
situated  in  the  province  of  that  name.  Richard  sent 
a  messenger  to  the  governor  of  the  place  for  pass- 
ports for  Sir  Baldwin  de  Bethune  and  suite,  and  a 
merchant  of  Damascus  of  the  name  of  Hugh,  which 
was  the  modest  appellation  assumed  by  the  king. 
To  make  favor  with  the  governor  and  secure  what 
he  wanted,  Richard  very  imprudently  sent  a  valuable 
ruby  ring  as  a  present  to  him.  The  governor  taking 
it  and  at  once  remarking  its  beauty  and  worth,  ob- 
served to  the  messenger  who  bore  it,  "  This  is  the 
gift  of  a  prince,  and  not  of  a  merchant ;  your  mas- 
ter's name  is  not  Hugh,  but  Richard,  King  of  Eng- 


Richard  Recognised.  233 

*and ;  tell  him  he  may  come  and  go  in  peace,  and 
that  although  I  am  ordered  to  stop  all  pilgrims  from 
the  Holy  Land  passing  through  my  territory,  I  will 
make  him  an  exception,  so  generous  and  noble  has 
he  proved  himself  by  his  princely  offering."  Richard 
finding  that  he  was  discovered,  and  knowing  that  the 
governor  was  Maynard,  who  probably  bore  him  no 
good,  since  he  was  a  relative  of  the  dead  Conrad  and 
of  the  Emperor  of  Germany,  became  anxious  about 
his  safety,  and  without  more  ado,  purchased  horses 
for  himself  and  some  of  his  companions,  and  rode 
away  at  a  quick  pace.  Baldwin  de  Bethune  and 
others  who  remained  behind  were  arrested  by  the 
order  of  the  governor,  and  word  dispatched  to  May- 
nard's  brother,  Frederick  of  Bretisan,  of  the  arrival 
and  flight  of  Richard,  and  his  probable  passage 
through  his  territory,  now  known  as  Saltzburg. 
The  governor's  brother  was  accordingly  on  the 
watch,  and  sure  enough  a  party  which  corresponded 
with  the  description  sent  of  Richard  and  his  compan- 
ions, arrived  at  the  hostel  at  Freisach.  Frederick 
had  a  retainer  in  his  service,  a  Norman  by  birth, 
who  was  sent  at  once  by  him  to  make  out,  if  possible, 
whether  Richard  was,  as  suspected,  among  the 
strangers.  The  Norman  was  to  ingratiate  himself 
with  the  party  at  the  inn,  and  by  the  opportunity  he 
would  thus  have  of  sharing  in  their  conversation,- 
be  enabled  to  learn  who  and  what  they  were.  He 
was  offered  a  large  reward  if  he  thus  succeeded  in 


234  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  discovery  of  the  king.  The  Norman  appeared 
to  obey  willingly  his  master's  orders,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  hostel,  where  he  soon  succeeded  in  making 
himself  at  home  with  the  new-comers.  The  Norman 
was  not  long  in  discovering  with  whom  he  had  to 
deal,  and  was  so  overcome  at  the  sight  of  the  king  of 
his  native  land,  that  he  fell  at  his  feet,  and  telling 
him  with  what  design  his  master  had  sent  him,  en- 
treated Richard  to  fly  on  the  instant.  He  moreover 
effectually  aided  him  to  escape  by  supplying  him 
with  a  fresh  and  fast  horse.  The  Norman  then  re- 
turned to  Frederick  and  told  him  that  there  was  no 
ground  for  his  suspicions  whatsoever ;  that  the  stran- 
gers were  just  what  they  gave  themselves  out  to  be, 
and  no  others,  a  merchant  and  some  fellow-travellers. 
Richard  set  out  at  once,  taking  with  him  a  single 
knight  and  a  boy  who  understood  German.  The 
rest  of  his  companions  were  away,  loitering  about 
the  town,  and  there  was  too  much  occasion  for  dis- 
patch to  await  their  return.  He  knew  that  he 
was  the  person  sought,  and  believed  there  could  be 
no  danger  to  those  whom  he  left  behind,  so  he  sped 
on  his  way.  Richard,  the  knight,  and  the  boy,  pro- 
ceeded on  their  journey  with  great  caution,  for  they 
were  aware  the  whole  country  was  now  alive  with 
the  intelligence  that  they  were  about,  and  every  man 
would  be  on  the  watch  to  lay  their  hands  on  them. 
For  three  days  and  as  many  nights,  Richard  travel- 
led on  without  tarrying,  and  scarcely  eating  any  food. 


Richard  Discovered.  235 

At  last,  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and  overcome  with 
hunger,  he  was  obliged  to  come  to  a  rest  at  Esperg, 
a  small  village  in  the  neighborhood  of  Vienna.  Here 
Richard  and  his  knightly  companion  took  up  their 
quarters  in  a  mean  hovel,  in  the  most  obscure  part 
of  the  village,  where  they  hoped  to  remain  unnoticed 
and  without  interference.  The  German  boy  was 
dispatched  to  the  market-place  in  Vienna,  which  was 
not  far  off,  to  obtain  a  supply  of  food  and  other  neces- 
saries, of  which  they  were  much  in  need.  Caution 
was  enjoined  upon  the  lad ;  he  was  strictly  to  keep 
his  tongue  in  regard  to  the  quality  of  his  masters 
and  of  their  whereabouts.  The  youth  passed  to  and 
fro  between  the  village  and  Vienna,  without  exciting 
suspicion,  several  days,  and  the  king  began  to  hope 
that  the  danger  was  passing,  and  that  he  might  soon 
continue  his  journey  without  fear  of  interruption. 
One  day,  however,  the  messenger  was  supplied  with 
pome  coin  that  Richard  had  brought  from  Palestine, 
which  bore  the  Syrian  impress.  When  the  youth 
offered  this  in  exchange  for  some  commodity,  the 
chapman  with  whom  he  dealt  began  to  suspect  that 
all  was  not  right,  and  detaining  the  lad,  gave  inform- 
ation to  one  of  the  magistrates  of  the  city.  He 
was  immediately  brought  before  this  dignitary  and 
closely  questioned.  The  youth,  true  to  his  duty, 
refused  to  answer  all  questions  about  the  quality  of 
his  masters  and  their  abode.  They  were  about  re- 
leasing him  when  they  discovered  in  his  girdle,  a 


236  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

pair  of  gloves,  such  as  were  worn  only  by  royal  per- 
sons or  princes.  This,  renewed  their  suspicions,  and 
as  they  could  not  draw  any  information  from  the 
lad  by  fair  means,  they  resorted  to  foul,  and  submit- 
ted the  poor  youth  to  the  torture.  His  courage  was 
proof  to  the  wringings  of  the  thumb  screw  and  the 
agonies  of  the  rack,  but  when  the  monsters  talked  of 
wrenching  out  his  tongue,  the  lad's  fortitude  could  no 
further  go,  and  he  told  all  he  knew.  A  troop  of 
soldiers  was  immediately  ordered  to  accompany  the 
boy  to  his  masters'  hiding-place  and  arrest  the  king 
and  his  companion  hi  the  name  of  Leopold,  Duke  of 
Austria. 

Richard  was  asleep  when  the  soldiers  arrived,  but 
aroused  by  their  tramp,  he  started  up  and  drawing 
his  sword  dared  them  to  their  worst.  Finding, 
however,  that  resistance  would  be  in  vain,  he  de- 
clared he  was  ready  to  give  himself  up,  but  only  to 
the  Duke  in  person.  Leopold  Duke  of  Austria  was 
at  that  time  in  Vienna,  and  soon  presented  himself. 
This  was  the  prince  that  King  Richard  had  con- 
temptuously kicked  and  turned  out  of  Acre,  when 
he  refused  to  do  his  share  of  the  work  at  the  for- 
tifications. Of  course  the  king  was  now  at  the  mercy 
of  his  deadliest  enemy.  When  Richard  surrendered 
his  sword  into  the  hands  of  the  duke,  Leopold  show- 
ing very  clearly  by  his  manner  how  delighted  he 
was  to  have  his  arch-enemy  in  his  power,  addressed 
him  thus  :  "  You  are  fortunate,  and  you  should  con- 


Richard  Imprisoned.  237 

sider  us  rather  as  your  deliverers  than  as  your 
enemies,  for  if  you  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  any 
of  the  friends  of  Conrad,  who  have  been  beating  the 
country  around  for  you,  you  would  have  surely  been 
slain  had  you  a  hundred  lives."  King  Richard  was 
then  transferred  to  prison,  but  was  treated  with 
some  show  of  consideration  on  account  of  his  royal 
character. 

The  Emperor  of  Germany,  however,  as  soon  as 
he  learned  of  the  great  prize  that  had  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Austria  exclaimed,  "A 
duke  must  not  presume  to  imprison  a  king — that 
belongs  to  an  emperor."  The  Emperor  Henry  had, 
as  well  as  the  Duke  of  Austria,  his  reasons  for 
hating  Richard,  and  was  glad  at  all  hazards,  to  get 
him  into  his  power.  It  will  be  recollected  that  the 
English  king,  after  his  struggle  with  Tancred  of 
Sicily,  became  his  sworn  friend,  and  took  him  under 
his  especial  protection.  Now,  the  emperor  had 
married  Constance,  who  claimed  the  throne  of  Sicily 
against  Tancred,  who  was  denounced  by  her  as  an 
usurper  of  her  rights.  Since  Richard's  departure 
from  Messina,  the  emperor,  in  behalf  of  his  wife,  had 
made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  upon  Sicily,  and 
having  been  ingloriously  defeated  was  preparing,  at 
the  moment  of  Richard's  capture,  to  revenge  himself 
upon  Tancred.  He  was,  of  course,  rejoiced  to  have 
in  his  grasp  the  king  of  Sicily's  most  potent  ally, 
The  emperor  moreover  was  a  fast  friend  of  the  King 


2h8  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

of  Fiance,  and  was,  no  doubt,  instigated  directly  by- 
Philip  to  seize  and  make  sure  of  the  English  king. 
Richard  was  now  in  the  midst  and  at  the  mercy  of 
his  most  implacable  enemies. 

So  eager  was  the  emperor  to  have  the  English 
king  in  his  power,  that  not  content  with  summoning 
the  Duke  of  Austria,  who  was  his  vassal,  to  yield 
up  his  royal  prisoner,  he  paid  over  to  him,  to  hasten 
his  compliance,  the  immense  sum  of  sixty  thousand 
pounds.  The  king,  having  been  duly  delivered  and 
paid  for,  was  immured  in  the  strong  castle  of  Duren- 
stein  on  the  Danube.  This  was  an  impregnable  for- 
tress, and  was  full  manned  with  a  great  array  of 
soldiers,  and  the  king  so  secretly  and  closely  guarded 
that  he  could  have  no  communication  whatsoever 
with  the  world  without,  and  the  very  place  of  his 
confinement  was  a  profound  secret  known  only  to 
his  bitterest  enemies.  A  romantic  story  is  current  of 
the  means  by  which,  at  last,  the  concealed  imprison- 
ment of  Richard  was  discovered.  He  was  passion- 
ately fond  of  poetry  and  music,  and  as  he  was  no 
contemptible  wooer  of  the  muses  himself,  he  delighted 
in  the  society  of  poets,  the  gay  troubadours  of  the  day. 
Blondel  de  Nesle  was  one  of  the  most  famous  of 
these,  and  a  chosen  friend  of  the  king,  in  his  moments 
of  leisure,  when  he  reposed  himself  from  the  fatigues 
of  warfare,  and  attuned  his  soul,  seeking  repose  from 
the  rude  discord  of  the  battle-cry,  to  the  calm,  sweet 
tones   of  poetry  and  music.     The  story  runs,  that 


The  King  Discovered.  239 

this  Blondel  de  Nesle  was  wandering  by  chance 
along  the  roadsides  of  Austria,  cheering  his  way 
with  song,  now  wafting  his  messages  of  love  to  the 
embowered  lattice  of  some  forlorn,  love-sick  maiden, 
and  again  raising  a  cheering  song  of  hope  to  the  iron- 
barred  window  of  the  captive,  when  he  arrived  be- 
neath the  frowning  battlements  of  the  castle  of 
Durenstein.  He  here  sent  up  a  message  of  mercy, 
borne  upon  the  wings  of  poetry,  which  fluttered  by 
the  ear  and  nestled  in  the  heart  of  the  captive  mon- 
arch, who  recognized  in  the  minstrel's  song  the 
familiar  words  of  his  happy  days,  and  the  well- 
known  voice  of  his  old  companion.  The  king 
reechoed  the  tones,  and  sent  back,  in  sympathetic 
narmony,  strains  which  Blondel  caught  at  once  as 
those  of  his  beloved  king.  The  minstrel  now  hurried 
to  England  and  made  known  his  discovery.  A  less 
romantic  and  probably  more  true  account  of  the  dis- 
covery of  King  Richard's  imprisonment  is  given  by 
the  historians,  whose  matter-of-fact  record  we  are 
bound,  in  spite  of  the  charms  of  romance  and  poetry, 
to  accept,  however  unwillingly.  These  uninteresting 
truth-tellers  relate,  that  a  letter  written  by  the 
Emperor  to  Philip  of  France,  with  whom  he  was  in 
constant  correspondence,  about  Richard,  fell  into  the 
hands  of  Longchamp,  the  friend  of  the  king,  who  had 
been  appointed  by  him  Chancellor  of  England,  and 
that  thus  his  place  of  imprisonment  became  known. 
The  feeling  of  all  Christendom  was  outraged  when 


240  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

this  nefarious  conduct  of  the  Austrian  princes  was 
disclosed.  Thus  to  profane  the  sacred  rights  of 
hospitality  by  seizing  a  royal  brother  who  was 
peacefully  travelling  through  a  country  with  which 
he  was  at  peace,  and  that  brother  the  mightiest  cham- 
pion of  the  great  cause  of  the  cross,  which  every 
Christian  prince  was  bound  to  uphold,  was  not  only 
an  outrage  upon  the  common  courtesies  of  life,  but 
upon  the  sacredness  of  religion.  The  King's  faithful 
friends  and  loyal  subjects  were  excited  to  a  pitch  of 
indignation,  almost  beyond  control,  and  would  have 
marched  to  the  rescue  of  the  great  Richard  had  not 
John,  who  now  controlled  the  power  of  England, 
prevented.  The  King's  mother,  Eleanor,  was  almost 
distracted  by  the  sad  news,  and  unable  to  warm  in 
the  wicked  heart  of  her  son  John  the  least  spark  of 
feeling  for  his  wronged  brother,  wrote  to  the  Pope 
Celestine,  urging  him  to  thunder  out  against  the 
wicked  doers  who  held  her  son  in  their  grasp,  and 
were  assuredly  plotting  his  death,  the  anathemas 
of  the  Church.  Celestine  accordingly  anathema- 
tized the  princes  who  were  concerned  in  this  foul 
conspiracy  against  Richard,  who  had  proved  so 
worthy  a  son  of  Mother  Church,  and  so  great  a 
champion  of  her  holy  cause. 

The  Prince  John  pretended  not  to  believe  the  re- 
port of  Richard's  imprisonment,  although  he  was 
undoubtedly  in  the  secret  of  the  whole  transaction, 
and  connived  at  the  ruin  of  his  brother.     He  gave 


The  English  Abbols.  241 

out  publicly  that  the  king  was  dead,  and  prepared  to 
establish  himself  upon  the  throne.  The  friends  of 
Richard  immediately  sent  two  English  abbots  to  try 
and  see  him  in  Ins  prison. 


lb 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE  stout  heart  of  Richard  never  pined,  though 
inclosed  within  bars  of  iron  in  the  impregnable 
fortress  of  Durenstein.  The  stone  did  not  weigh 
down  his  spirits,  nor  the  iron  enter  his  soul,  but 
the  rnerrie  monarch  bore  his  adverse  fortune  with 
more  than  fortitude ;  he  gayly  turned  it  to  enjoy- 
ment. His  love  of  music  and  poetry  served  him 
now  a  good  turn,  and  he  cheered  many,  a  solitary 
hour  with  verse-making,  and  singing  his  own  songs 
to  the  accompaniment  of  the  lute.  The  king  was  no 
mean  Troubadour,  and  his  compositions  bear  a  favor- 
able comparison  with  those  of  the  most  expert  of  his 
day  in  the  "  gaye  science."  A  poem  of  his,  written 
while  in  prison,  is  still  extant,  which  our  readers  will 
not  read,  we  are  sure,  without  some  emotion,  in  sym- 
pathy with  its  pathetic  strain. 

Richard's    lament. 

If  captive  wight  attempt  the  tuneful  strain, 
His  voice  belike  full  dolefully  will  sound , 

Yet  to  the  sad,  'tis  comfort  to  complain. 

Friends  have  I  store :  and  promises  abound : 

Shame  on  the  niggards !  since  these  winters  twain, 

Unransomed  still,  I  bear  a  tyrant's  chain. 


Pleasant   Times  in  Prison.  243 

Full  well  they  know,  my  lords  aud  nobles  all, 
Of  England,  Normandy,  Guienne,  Poictou, 

Ne'er  did  I  slight  my  poorest  vassal's  call, 
But  all  whom  wealth  could  buy  from  chains,  withdrew. 

Not  in  reproach  I  speak,  or  idly  vain, 

But  I  alone  unpitied  bear  the  chain. 

My  fate  will  show,  "the  dungeon  and  the  grave, 
Alike  repel  our  kindred  and  our  friends." 

Here  am  I  left  their  paltry  gold  to  save ! 

Sad  fate  is  mine ;  but  worse  their  crime  attends. 

Their  lord  will  die ;  their  conscience  shall  remain, 

And  tell  them  how  long  I  wore  tins  galling  chain. 

It  will  be  confessed  that  this  is  pretty  fair  for  a 
monarch,  somewhat  improved,  no  doubt,  by  this  ver- 
sion of  Mr.  Ellis,  the  famous  collector  of  the  "  Speci- 
mens." If  Richard  is  not  allowed  the  title  of  a  king 
among  poets,  no  one  will  dispute  his  claims  to  being 
a  poet  among  kings.  He  did  not  always  poetically 
grieve  in  the  sad  strain  of  these  verses,  but  often  in- 
dulged in  the  composition  of  love  ditties  and  more 
inspiriting  effusions. 

Nor  are  these  verses  to  be  taken  as  an  indication 
of  the  usual  tone  of  Richard's  spirits  while  in  prison. 
This  lament  was  more  poetical  than  real,  and  from 
all  accounts  his  animal  spirits  never  failed  him. 
When  his  voice  was  not  attuned  to  song,  or  when  his 
eye  was  not  in  a  "  fine  frenzy  rolling,"  he  was  at  no 
loss  to  pass  his  time  pleasantly  enough.  There  was 
the  companionship  of  the  rude  Austrian  soldiers  of 


244  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

his  guard,  with  whom  he  often  tested  his  skill  in 
feats  of  strength,  and  not  seldom  in  bouts  with  the 
flagon  or  goblet,  in  which  the  jovial  monarch  never 
failed  to  come  off"  victor.  He  was  fond,  too,  of  relating 
his  adventures  in  the  Holy  Land,  to  which  all  soldiers 
in  those  days  were  ready  listeners,  and  would  fight 
over  his  battles  with  the  Turks,  and  dwell  upon  skir- 
mish and  counter-skirmish,  storm  and  siege,  or,  at 
times,  warming  with  his  subject,  would  speak  of  the 
glories  of  that  sacred  soil  and  of  that  hallowed  city 
which  were  yet  unredeemed,  and  solemnly  call  all 
Christendom  to  account  for  not  rescuing  them  from 
the  profanation  of  the  infidel.  He  would  then  vow, 
with  his  uplifted  hands,  and  eyes  raised  to  heaven,  to 
devote  himself  in  the  future  to  the  great  cause,  and 
pledge  his  life,  if  it  were  spared,  or  again  at  liberty, 
to  its  triumph. 

The  imperial  jailer,  Henry  of  Germany,  began  to 
be  ashamed  of  his  vocation,  so  great  was  the  indig- 
nation expressed  throughout  Christendom  of  his  out- 
rage upon  the  rights  of  hospitality  and  his  contempt 
of  all  law.  He  now,  to  justify  himself  in  the  eyes 
of  the  world,  made  a  show  of  that  justice  which 
his  conduct  toward  Richard  clearly  proved  he  did 
not  reverence.  He  cited  the  English  king  before  the 
diet  at  Hagenau,  and  Richard  was  accordingly  con- 
veyed to  that  place  under  a  strong  escort  of  soldiers. 
On  his  route,  not  far  from  the  boundaries  of  Bavaria, 
he  met  the  two  English  abbots  who  had  been  dis- 


The  King  on   Trial  245 

patched  by  his  friends  in  England.  The  king  was 
overjoyed  at  the  meeting,  and  he  discoursed  with 
them  a  long  time,  during  which  the  subject  uppermost 
in  his  mind,  the  state  of  his  kingdom,,  was  the  chief 
topic.  The  abbots  gave  him  full  particulars  of  the 
invasion  of  his  Norman  provinces  by  the  king  of 
France,  and  of  the  noble  resistance  of  his  faithful 
subjects,  headed  by  his  brave  baron  and  fellow- 
crusader,  the  Earl  of  Leicester,  who  sallied  out  from 
Rouen,  and  defeating  Philip,  had  forced  him  to  retire 
■within  his  own  territory.  They  told  him  how  John  had 
been  constantly  plotting  against  his  brother's  rights, 
how  he  had  taken  the  castles  of  Windsor  and  Walling- 
ford,  and  having  marched  upon  London,  demanded 
the  crown,  persisting  in  the  statement  that  Richard 
was  dead  and  that  he  himself  was  now  the  lawful 
heir.  And  again  how  the  faithful  barons  and  loyal 
subjects  of  the  Crown  had  resisted  this  usurpation 
and  forced  John  to  retreat.  For  a  moment  Richard 
pondered  in  silence  over  this  intelligence,  but  instantly 
shaking  off  the  sorrow  with  which  a  brother's  trea- 
son weighed  down  a  brother's  heart,  he  gaily  said, 
"  John  will  never  win  a  crown  by  his  courage." 

The  king  was  now  in  the  presence  of  the  assembly 
convoked  at  Hagenau  to  try  him.  The  charges 
uttered  against  him  were,  his  alliance  with  Tancred, 
the  usurper  of  Sicily ;  his  conduct  toward  Isaac  of 
Cyprus,  and  the  detention  of  his  daughter,  who  was 
niece  of  the  Duchess  of  Austria;  his  having  plucked 


246  The  Lion-Hear  ted  King. 

down  the  standard  of  Austria  from  the  turrets  of 
Acre,  and  his  degrading  treatment  of  the  duke ;  his 
disobedience  to  his  liege,  Lord  Philip  of  France ;  his 
connivance  at  the  murder  of  Conrad ;  and,  lastly,  his 
truce  with  Saladin,  by  which  he  had  left  the  holy  city 
to  his  mercy.  Eichard  boldly  confronted  his  accusers, 
and  began  by  telling  them,  that  if  he  merely  con- 
sulted his  pride  and  his  rights  as  an  independent 
sovereign,  he  avouM  treat  their  charges  with  the  con- 
temptuous  silence  they  merited.  He,  however,  as  a 
Christian  prince,  as  one  whose  life  was  pledged  to 
the  holy  cause  of  the  Cross,  and  with  which  his  con- 
duct now  arraigned  was  so  closely  interwoven,  would 
waive  his  rights  as  a  sovereign  and  humble  his  pride  as 
king  and  refute  every  charge,  that  Christianity  might 
not  suffer  in  his  person.  Eichard  then  vindicated 
himself,  and  presented  his  statements  with  so  much 
clearness,  justified  his  conduct  by  arguments  so 
forcible,  and  spoke  with  such  an  expression  of  truth 
and  eloquence,  that  every  man  in  the  assembly  was 
convinced  of  his  innocence,  and  struck  with  admi- 
ration for  the  nobleness  of  his  defence.  The  Em- 
peror Henry  was  completely  overcome,  and,  rising 
from  his  throne,  threw"  himself  into  the  arms  of  the 
king  and  acknowledged  his  triumph. 

The  German  emperor,  however,  instead  of  releasing 
Eichard,  whom  in  the  first  place  he  had  no  legal  right 
to  imprison  or  to  try,  and  now  that  he  had  acknow- 
edged  his  innocence,  no  show  of  reason  for  detaining, 


A  High  Price  for  a  King.  247 

still  kept  him.  imprisoned.  This  emperor  was  an  ava- 
ricious prince,  and  knowing  the  value  of  his  captive, 
was  determined  to  improve  the  occasion  for  adding 
to  his  treasury.  The  miserable,  trafficking  spirit  of 
this  imperial  jobber  would  have  bee,n  a  disgrace  to 
the  meanest  chapman  in  his  kingdom.  This  mean 
emperor  had  no  right  to  the  person  of  Eichard,  he 
acknowledged  that  he  had  none,  and  yet  persevered 
in  the  wrong,  that  he  might  turn  it  into  money.  The 
mean,  dirty,  peddling,  dishonest  prince  began  to  haggle 
for  a  price  at  once,  and  as  all  the  advantage  was  on 
his  side  by  accident,  he  took  care  to  secure  it,  and 
made  terms  which  were  as  dishonorable  as  they  were 
profitable  to  himself.  He  made  Richard  resign  his 
kingdom  into  his  hands  as  sovereign  lord,  then  restored 
it  to  him  as  vassal  under  the  condition  of  a  payment 
of  five  thousand  pounds  a  year.  The  greedy,  griping 
monarch  was  not  even  now  contented,  but  demanded 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  marks,  about  a  mil- 
lion and  a  half  of  our  money,  into  the  bargain,  an 
enormous  sum  of  money  in  those  days.  The  king 
himself  was  not  prepared  to  assent  to  these  terms, 
but  promised  to  consult  his  friends  in  England  as  to 
the  possibility  of  raising  such  a  sum.  In  the  mean- 
time the  emperor  kept  his  gripe  upon  the  royal 
captive. 

Longchamp,  the  old  chancellor  and  devoted  friend 
of  Richard,  now  arrived,,  and  was  received  by  the  king 
with  great  warmth  of  affection.     At  the  same  time 


248  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Hubert,  bishop  of  Salisbury,  who  had  been  Richard's 
companion  at  arms  in  the  campaign  in  the  Holy- 
Land,  arrived  from  Sicily,  where  he  had  heard,  on 
his  way  to  England,  of  his  royal  master's  imprison- 
ment. The  latter  was  now  dispatched  at  once  to 
arrange  for  the  payment  of  the  proposed  ransom. 
Longchamp  remained  to  cheer  the  king  with  his 
society. 

In  the  meantime  Philip  of  France  and  Prince 
John  hearing  of  the  prospect  of  Richard's  liberation, 
conspired  together  to  prevent  an  event  which  would 
prove  so  fatal  to  their  own  evil  designs.  They 
rightly  deemed  that  the  most  persuasive  appeal  to 
be  addressed  to  the  avaricious  emperor  was  through 
his  purse,  where  his  heart  was  to  be  found.  They 
accordingly  promised  to  pay  Henry  a  larger  sum 
than  the  whole  amount  of  the  ransom,  provided  he 
would  keep  the  king  in  his  clutches.  This  awakened 
the  greedy  appetite  of  the  royal  huckster,  and  he 
was  about  to  strike  what  seemed  to  his  mean  soul 
the  better  bargain,  when  the  other  German  princes, 
hearing  of  this  dishonorable  transaction,  vehemently 
protested  against  it,  and  forced  the  emperor  to  keep 
to  the  promise  he  had  so  solemnly  made  to  Richard. 

The  bishop  of  Salisbury,  who  had  now  arrived  in 
England,  succeeded,  in  spite  of  every  obstruction 
raised  by  the  king  of  France  and  Prince  John,  in 
obtaining  by  a  tax  the  stipulated  sum  for  the  ransom. 
England   contributed  the   principal   portion  of  the 


The  King   Set  Free.  249 

required  amount.  The  rich  plate  of  the  churches 
and  monasteries  was  sold,  the  Cistercian  monks  gave 
the  proceeds  of  a  whole  year's  produce  of  wool,  of 
which  they  were  the  chief  cultivators,  and  the 
knights,  parochial  clergy,  and  the  towns,  were  taxed 
largely  to  make  up  the  sum  required.  This  amount- 
ed to  only  two-thirds  of  the  whole  ransom,  which 
was  all  that  was  to  be  paid  down,  it  having  been 
agreed  to  pay  the  remainder  at  some  future  time. 
The  king's  mother,  Eleanor,  and  the  archbishop  of 
Rouen,  now  proceeded  to  Mentz,  where  the  ransom 
was  paid,  and  Richard,  in  accordance  with  the  agree- 
ment, set  free  after  an  imprisonment,  of  fourteen 
months.  At  the  moment  of  his  liberation,  the  emperor 
showed  the  king  letters  from  his  brother  John  and 
Philip  of  France,  in  which  these  base  princes  pro- 
posed that  Richard  should  be  kept  in  captivity,  for  a 
consideration  larger  than  the  ransom,  and  which  the 
avaricious  Henry  was  only  prevented,  as  we  have 
seen,  from  accepting,  by  the  interposition  of  the  other 
German  princes. 

Richard  now  took  his  departure  for  England,  nor 
did  he  feel  himself  secure  as  long  as  he  was  in  the 
land  of  his  former  captivity.  It  is  recorded  that  the 
emperor,  after  the  departure  of  his  prisoner,  regretted 
his  release,  and,  eager  to  secure  the  friendship  of 
Philip  and  John,  and  their  money,  sent  messengers 
after  hirnto  endeavor  to  rearrest  him.  Richard, 
however,  was  too  rapid  in  his  movements,  and  hav- 


250  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

ing  set  out  from  Mentz  and  hurried  through  Cologne, 
finally  set  sail  from  Antwerp,  and  arrived  in  safety 
at  Sandwich,  in  England,  on  the  20th  of  March,  in 
the  year  1194.  He  had  been  absent  from  his  king- 
dom four  years. 

';  Take  care  of  yourself  the  devil  has  broken  loose" 
were  the  words  written  to  John  by  Philip  of  France 
when  he  heard  of  the  king's  liberation.  His  enemies 
had  reason  to  be  alarmed.  Their  fright  was  only 
equalled  by  the  joy  of  his  faithful  barons  and  loyal 
subjects.  The  English  people  received  their  king 
with  great  enthusiasm,  and  his  progress  to  London 
was  a  continued  scene  of  festivity,  cheered  with 
loud  acclamations  of  delight  and  loyalty.  On  arriv- 
ing in  the  capital,  the  citizens  of  London  welcomed 
him  with  a  magnificent  banquet.  A  German  baron 
who  was  present  on  the  occasion  was  so  much  struck 
with  the  magnificence  of  the  entertainment  and  the 
evidence  of  wealth,  that  he  remarked  to  Richard, 
"  Oh  king  !  if  our  emperor  had  suspected  this,  you 
would  not  have  been  let  oft'  so  easily." 

The  lion-hearted  king,  however,  did  not  waste  his 
time  in  junkettings  and  merry-makings,  but  busied 
himself  at  once  about  setting  his  kingdom  in  order. 
He  commenced  with  redressing  his  wrongs  and  pun- 
ishing his  enemies.  It  was  clear  from  undoubted 
evidence  that  Prince  John  was  engaged  in  an  exten- 
sive conspiracy,  which  had  no  less  an  object  than  dis- 
possessing  his   brother   of   his   throne   and  all  his 


The  Traitor  John  Punished.  251 

dominions.  By  the  help  of  Philip  of  France  the 
traitor  brother  was  already  in  possession  of  some  of 
the  strongest  fortresses  in  Normandy,  and  his  agents 
were  busy  in  England  plotting  their  schemes  and 
striving  to  corrupt  the  loyalty  of  the  realm. 

The  king  of  England  convoked  a  council,  before 
which  the  evidences  of  Prince  John's  guilt  were  laid, 
and  which  were  so  clear,  that  it  was  determined  to 
punish  him  at  once  by  depriving  him  of  his  posses- 
sions. Richard  accordingly  mustered  a  force  and 
hastened  to  put  into  execution  the  decree  of  the 
council.  At  his  first  approach  most  of  the  castles 
and  fortresses  yielded  without  a  blow.  The  garrison 
of  Nottingham,  however,  proved  more  obstinate,  but 
a  vigorous  assault,  led  on  by  the  king  himself,  soon 
brought  them  to  terms,  and  fealty  to  Richard  was 
no  longer  disputed.  Several  ecclesiastics  and  barons 
high  in  authority,  who  had  been  implicated  in  the 
conspiracy,  were  deprived  of  their  sees  and  offices, 
and  John  was  declared,  in  consequence  of  his  mani- 
fold treasons,  to  have  forfeited  his  right  to  the  suc- 
cession, which  was  voided  in  favor  of  young  Arthur, 
the  prince  of  Bretagne,  nephew  of  the  king. 

A  recoronation  of  Richard  was  proposed  by  the 
Great  Council  of  the  kingdom,  to  which  the  king 
yielded,  though  he  contended  against  the  necessity. 
He  was  then  crowned  again  with  great  pomp  and 
ceremony,  at  Winchester,  on  Easter  day.  Having 
settled  every  thing  on  a  secure  basis  in  England,  he 


252  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

now  turned  his  attention  to  Normandy.  Previous  to 
setting  out,  however,  he  was  obliged  to  have  recourse 
to  the  usual  expedient  of  monarchs  when  their  treasu- 
ries are  low — a  general  taxation  of  his  subjects.  To 
the  sums  raised  in  this  way  he  added  something 
more  by  the  putting  up  to  public  sale  various  offices 
in  the  government,  to  which  there  were  always  to  be 
found  ready  bidders,  whose  weakness  and  vanity 
made  them  desire  to  possess  what  those  qualities 
unfitted  them  to  fill. 

The  English  army  were  in  camp  at  Portsmouth, 
awaiting  the  king  to  lead  them  over  to  Normandy, 
where  they  burned  to  avenge  him  upon  Philip  of 
France.  Eichard  now  arrived  and  embarked  with  his 
troops,  but  was  forced  to  put  back  in  consequence  of 
a  severe  storm  in  the  English  Channel.  He  finally 
reached  Harfleur  after  a  detention  of  some  two  weeks. 
His  brother  John  hastened  to  meet  him,  together  with 
their  mother,  Eleanor.  The  former  threw  himself 
at  the  feet  of  Richard  and  craved  his  pardon,  which 
the  queen  entreated  with  all  the  earnest  affection  of 
a  mother's  heart.  Richard  magnanimously  forgave 
the  unnatural  brother  and  black-hearted  traitor,  but 
he  could  not  resist  indulging  in  a  sarcasm  which 
showed  how  shrewdly  his  sngacity  judged  the  charao 
ter  of  the  traitor  while  his  heart  forgave  the  brother. 
"  I  forgive  him,"  said  Richard,  "  and  hope  I  shall  as 
easily  forget  his  injuries  as  he  will  forget  my  par- 
don." 


John's  Barbarous  Cruelty.  253 

John  signalized  his  treason  to  his  ally,  Philip  of 
France,  and  his  reconciliation  with  his  brother,  by 
an  act  of  barbarous  cruelty,  which  proved  him  as 
malignant  as  he  was  deceitful.  Before  quitting  the 
French,  to  whose  alliance  he  had  solemnly  pledged 
his  faith,  and  bound  himself  to  accept  of  no  terms 
with  the  English  without  the  concurrence  of  France, 
he  invited  to  a  banquet  all  the  officers  of  the  French 
garrison  which  had  been  placed  at  his  disposal  for 
the  defence  of  Evreux.  In  full  confidence,  the  guests 
assembled,  and  secure  in  the  faith  of  hospitality,  the 
sacred  rights  of  friendship,  and  the  solemn  obliga- 
tions of  treaties,  gaily  yielded  to  the  social  enjoy- 
ments of  the  hour.  The  prince,  whose  skill  in  deceit 
was  equal  to  the  malevolent  wickedness  of  his  heart, 
received  his  visitors  with  a  mask  of  courteous  kind- 
ness, which  covered  a  welcome,  the  nature  of  which 
they  never  suspected.  The  French  officers  were 
then  in  the  unguarded  hour  of  convivial  enjoyment, 
mercilessly  massacred  by  the  prince,  and  their  blood 
mingled  profusely  with  the  wine  they  had  poured  out 
in  honor  of  their  host.  The  blood-stained  monster 
then  hurried  to  his  brother,  at  whose  feet  we  have 
seen  him  prostrate,  suing  for  that  mercy  which  his 
cruel  and  selfish  heart  knew  only  as  a  refuge  for  his 
own  craven  spirit. 

John  was  forgiven  by  Richard  as  a  brother,  but  his 
ill  deeds  were  never  forgotten  by  him  as  a  king.  He 
took  care  that  the  scheming  traitor  should  be  balked 


254  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

for  the  future  in  his  designs,  and  accordingly  the 
prince's  dark  wings  of  evil  were  effectually  clipped. 
John  was  deprived  of  all  his  possessions,  and  as  he 
was  without  capacity,  there  was  no  danger  from  his 
head  while  his  hands  were  fettered. 

King  Richard's  appearance  in  Normandy  took 
Philip  of  France  by  surprise  like  an  unexpected 
apparition.  The  French  king  thinking  that  the  dis- 
orders of  England  were  sufficient  to  engage  all  the 
attention  and  absorb  all  the  energies  of  Richard, 
thought  that  he  might  with  safety  carry  out  his 
designs  upon  Normandy.  Philip  accordingly  had 
begun  his  campaign  and  was  deliberately  laying 
siege  to  Verneuil,  when  he  was  surprised  by  the 
intelligence  of  the  arrival  of  the  king  of  England. 
This  was  a  complication  of  affairs  that  Philip  had 
not  calculated  upon,  and  not  caring  to  measure 
swords  with  so  formidable  a  champion,  he  fled  from 
before  the  walls  of  Verneuil  like  the  mist  before  the 
coming  sun.  Richard  entered  the  town  without  strik- 
ing a  blow,  and  after  repairing  the  walls  which  had  been 
battered  by  the  French,  continued  in  pursuit  of  the 
enemy.  The  fortress  of  Loches,  in  Touraine,  was  in 
the  possession  of  Philip,  and  had  been  attacked  with- 
out success  by  the  forces  of  Navarre,  under  the  com- 
mand of  a  brother  of  the  English  queen,  Berengaria. 
Richard  now  marched  to  the  relief  of  his  allies,  and 
by  a  rapid  assault  won  back  his  fortress.  Philip 
did  as  much  mischief  as  he  could  as  he  fled  before 


Richard  in  Pursuit  of  Philip.  255 

the  approach  of  Eichard.  He  took  a  small  castle 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Rouen,  and  while  there  made 
a  conquest,  for  which  he  had  to  thank  his  good  luck 
and  the  recklessness  of  his  enemy.  The  Earl  of 
Leicester,  the  worthy  associate  of  Richard  in  the 
crusades,  was  in  command  at  that  time  of  Rouen,  and, 
with  his  usual  disregard  of  danger,  was  riding  out 
unattended  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  French  camp, 
when  he  was  set  upon  by  a  troop,  of  horse,  who 
succeeded  in  capturing  him,  although  he  struggled 
bravely  for  liis  liberty.  The  French  king  rejoiced 
at  the  capture,  and  fastly  bound  him  in  prison,  where 
he  suffered  until  his  redemption  long  after  by  an  im- 
mense ransom. 

As  Richard  came  up,  the  French  retreated,  and 
drew  back  as  far  as  Evreux,  which  fortress  they 
stormed,  and  after  plundering,  burned  the  town. 
The  king  of  England  at  last,  by  forced  marches, 
came  up  with  the  enemy  near  Fretoval,  and  attacked 
them  with  such  spirit,  that  they  were  forced  to 
a  precipitate  flight,  leaving  behind  them  their  bag- 
gage and  a  large  number  of  dead.  Among  other 
things  a  military  chest  fell  into  the  hands  of  Richard, 
which  is  said  to  have  contained  a  collection  of  import- 
ant documents,  for  the  loss  of  which  the  French  his- 
torians grieve  to  this  day.  The  fugitives  were 
eagerly  pursued,  and  Richard  was  the  foremost  in  the 
pursuit.  He  pushed  on  for  a  royal  prize ;  he  was 
determined  to  take  Philip  himself  captive,  and  the 


256  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

French  king  would  have  surely  fallen  into  his  hands, 
had  he  not  separated  from  his  army  and  hid  himself  in 
a  neighboring  church.  The  English  king,  followed  by 
his  cavalry,  pushed  on  with  unabated  vigor  until  he 
had  driven  every  Frenchman  across  the  borders  of 
Normandy  into  his  own  territory.  A  truce  for  a 
year  was  now  concluded,  and  Eichard  returned  to 
England. 

On  his  arrival  in  his  English  dominions,  the  king 
was  met  by  Baldwin  de  Bethune,  the  old  companion 
of  his  captivity  in  Germany,  who  had  been  left  with 
Leopold  of  Austria  as  one  of  the  hostages  for  the 
payment  of  that  part  of  Richard's  ransom  which  was 
to  accrue  to  him.  The  duke  had  became  impatient 
for  the  settlement  of  the  debt,  and  accordingly  dis- 
patched Baldwin  to  the  English  king  with  a  message, 
to  the  effect  that  if  the  money  was  not  immediately 
forthcoming,  the  heads  of  all  the  English  hostages 
should  fall  by  the  axe.  Richard,  much  against  his 
will,  for  his  subjects  could  illy' bear  the  necessary 
tax,  and  he  was  irritated  by  the  audacity  of  the 
duke's  threat,  paid  the  sum,  and  sent,  moreover, 
according  to  his  agreement,  the  Cyprian  princess 
and  his  niece,  the  "  maid  of  Brittany,"  sister  of 
Prince  Authur,  who  had  been  promised  in  marriage 
to  the  son  of  the  Duke  of  Austria. 

Before  Baldwin  de  Bethune  had  arrived  with 
the  money  and  his  charge,  the  duke  of  Austria 
was   no   more.     While  Leopold  was  riding  in  the 


Royal  Surgery.  257 

tournament  his  horse  fell,  crushing  his  ancle,  frac- 
turing the  bones  of  his  leg,  and  wounding  the 
flesh  so  severely  that  there  was  no  hope  but  in 
amputating  the  limb.  No  surgeon  could  be  found 
sufficiently  confident  in  his  skill  to  perform  the  opera- 
tion, although  the  necessity  of  it  was  so  evident  as 
to  be  acknowledged  by  all.  The  leg  now  began  to 
mortify,  and  the  king,  losing  all  patience,  and  aware 
of  the  consequences  of  delay,  courageously  deter- 
mined to  rid  himself  of  it.  He  accordingly  called 
for  a  battle-ax  and  a  mallet,  and  placing  the  sharp 
edge  of  the  former  just  above  the  dark  line  which 
marked  the  boundaries  between  the  dead  and  living 
part,  and  having  given  the  mallet  to  his  chamberlain, 
ordered  him  to  strike  upon  the  head  of  the  axe,  and 
with  one  blow  the  foot  and  ancle  were  severed  from 
the  limb.  It  was,  however,  too  late,  and  the  opera- 
tion too  rudely  performed,  to  be  of  any  avail,  and  the 
end  of  the  duke  was  evidently  fast  approaching. 
Losing  all  hope,  he  called  for  his  confessor  and  asked 
for  absolution.  The  priest  insisted,  as  a  condition, 
that  the  duke  should  make  reparation  to  the  utmost 
of  his  power  for  his  cruel  treatment  of  the  great 
champion  of  the  Cross,  Eichard  of  England.  Leopold 
then,  having  ordered  the  ransom  to  be  remitted  and 
the  hostages  to  be  delivered  up,  was  absolved  of  all  his 
sins  and  yielded  up  the  ghost.  His  son,  however, 
as  soon  as  his  father  was  entombed,  was  disposed  to 
disobey  the  orders  that  had  been  issued,  but  his 
17 


258  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

clergy  so  strenuously  insisted  upon  the  fulfillment  of 
the  late  duke's  dying  commands,  that  he  yielded. 
The  ransom  was  accordingly  remitted  and  the  host- 
ages liberated.  Baldwin  de  Bethune  heard  the  intel- 
ligence on  his  route  before  he  had  reached  Austria, 
and  immediately  retraced  his  steps  with  the  money 
in  his  keeping  and  the  princesses  under  his  charge. 

During  the  short  enjoyment  of  peace,  Richard, 
whose  pleasures,  like  his  occupations,  partook  of  a 
martial  character,  established  throughout  England 
tournaments,  at  which  his  nobles  might  invigorate 
their  powers  and  exercise  their  skill,  and  archery 
meetings,  where  his  English  yeomen  could,  by  prac- 
tice with  the  bow,  strengthen  their  hand  and  give 
certainty  to  their  aim.  The  king  always  shared  in 
these  manly  sports,  and  was  as  often  a  competitor 
for  the  silver  arrow  or  tankard  of  plate  with  the 
humble  bowman  as  for  the  crown  from  the  hands  of 
beauty,  with  the  chivalrous  noble,  or  knight  of  the 
tourney. 

The  king  of  England  was  never  long  at  peace,  and 
before  one  truce  was  ended  he  was  giving  occasion 
for  another.  The  expense  of  these  continued  wars 
was  the  only  check  to  Richard's  martial  ardor ;  he 
was  ever  ready  with  his  fire,  but  not  always  supplied 
with  the  necessary  ammunition.  His  frequent  ex- 
peditions into  Normandy  were  the  source  of  an 
immense  expenditure  of  money,  which  was  chiefly 
derived  from  taxes  upon  his  English  subjects,  par- 


An  Early  Democrat.  259 

ticularly  the  citizens  of  London.  The  taxation  now 
became  so  frequent  and  burdensome  that  the  worthy 
citizens  first  remonstrated,  then  openly  resisted. 
They  found  in  William  Fitzosbert,  called  also 
Longbeard,  (from  not  shaving,  contrary  to  the  cus- 
tom of  the  Commoners,)  a  fit  leader  for  the  popular 
cause.  He  was  a  citizen  of  London,  and  prided  him- 
self upon  his  true  Saxon  descent,  and  was  beloved 
by  the  common  people  as  a  representative  of  the 
truly  national  race  to  which  they  belonged,  and 
among  whom  a  hatred  of  their  Norman  conquerors 
still  rankled.  To  these  claims  from  his  origin  to  the 
sympathies  of  the  people  he  added  those  personal 
qualities  which  endear  a  man  to  the  popular  heart. 
He  was  a  person  of  great  strength  and  activity,  and 
of  undaunted  courage.  He  was  a  fluent  haranguer, 
and  was  skillful  in  his  appeals  to  the  passions  and 
active  energies  of  the  people.  So  closely  had  he 
attached  himself  to  the  affections  of  the  lower  classes, 
that  they  termed  him  the  "  King  of  the  Poor." 

Fitzosbert  now  became  a  power  in  the  land,  and 
he  accordingly  determined  to  seek  redress  for  the 
wrongs  of  the  people.  The  king  being  in  Normandy, 
Fitzosbert  went  over  to  lay  his  complaints  before 
him.  Richard  received  him  with  a  consideration 
that  was  due  to  his  position  as  the  chosen  champion 
of  the  English  people,  and  promised  redress.  Nothing, 
however,  was  done,  and  Fitzosbert  prepared  to  obtain 
by  compulsion  what  he  could  not  acquire  by  favor. 


260  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

All  he  asked  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  people  was, 
that  they  should  not  be  unequally  taxed  for  the  wars 
which  the  king  and  his  Norman  barons  were  con- 
stantly waging  for  their  own  glory  or  in  consequence 
of  their  personal  quarrels.  The  burden  of  the  taxa- 
tion had  fallen  almost  entirely  upon  the  hard-working 
citizens  of  London  and  the  burgesses  of  the  towns. 
Fitzosbert  and  his  followers  did  not  demand,  as  they 
might  well  have  done,  a  cessation  of  these  absurd 
wars  and  a  complete  relief  from  the  prodigal  waste 
of  the  revenues  of  England,  but  only  the  common 
justice  of  not  being  disproportionately  oppressed. 

On  the  return  of  Fitzosbert  to  England,  he  organ- 
ized his  followers  in  secret  political  associations,  and 
fifty-two  thousand  men  are  said  to  have  been  thus 
enrolled.  They  pledged  themselves  to  implicit 
obedience  to  their  leader,  and  he  now  became  so  con- 
fident in  his  cause  and  his  power  to  sustain  it,  that  he 
openly  addressed  the  people  of  London,  who  daily 
gathered  in  crowds  at  St.  Paul's  Cross  to  listen  to 
the  fervid  appeals  of  the  eloquent  advocate  of  the 
popular  cause.  The  wealthy  citizens,  as  usual,  were 
the  first  to  take  alarm.  They  feared  for  their  strong 
boxes,  and  the  very  marks  in  their  money-bags  began 
to  shake  with  fright.  They  had  favored  the  cause 
when  there  was  a  promise  of  its  being  gained  without 
expense,  and  of  its  adding  to  the  balance  in  their 
favor  in  the  ledger.  Now,  however,  things  looked 
dangerous,  the  beggarly  people,  who  had  every  thing 


Fitzosbert  before  the  Council.  261 

excited,  would  be  under  no  check,  but  run  wildly  into 
riot,  were  gaining  an  ascendancy  full  of  risk  to  pro- 
perty. Nothing  would  be  secure  from  their  unbridled 
license,  and  the  wealth  of  the  citizens  being  nearest 
at  hand  would  be  first  plundered.  This  matter  had 
gone  far  enough,  and  it  must  now  be  frowned  down 
by  the  respectable  and  those  who  had  great  interests 
at  stake  in  the  country.  Thus  reasoned  these  worthy 
citizens  as  they  trembled  in  incubation  over  heaps  of 
money,  and  casting  their  eager  eyes  upon  bolts  and 
locks,  and  turning  their  quick  ears  to  every  stir  with- 
out, whispered,  tremulously,  that  they  "hoped  the 
mob  might  be  put  down." 

Fitzosbert  was  cited  now  to  appear  before  a  coun- 
cil, to  answer  the  heinous  charge  of  having  inflamed 
the  poor  and  the  middle  classes  with  the  love  of  lib- 
erty and  happiness.  He  did  not  resist  the  summons, 
but  presented  himself  at  once  with  such  a  formidable 
array  of  followers,  that  it  was  not  considered  prudent 
to  proceed  with  the  trial  at  present,  so  the  "  King  of 
the  Poor"  was  borne  off  in  triumph  by  the  mob. 

It  was  now  attempted  by  the  authorities  to  gain 
over  the  people  to  the  cause  of  order,  and  by  promises 
and  liberal  largesses,  they  so  far  succeeded  as  to 
induce  many  of  the  poorest  to  pledge  their  children 
as  hostages  for  their  good  conduct.  This  deprived 
Fitzosbert  of  much  of  his  popular  support.  Some 
of  the  wealthy  citizens,  eager  to  make  favor  with  the 
ting,  volunteered   their   services   and  promised   to 


262  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

deliver  up  the  favorite  of  the  people.  They  could 
not  venture  to  attack  him  openly,  for  he  was  yet  too 
formidable,  notwithstanding  the  disaffection  of  many 
of  his  followers,  to  be  touched  otherwise  than  with 
the  utmost  caution.  A  wealthy  citizen,  called  Geof 
frey,  and  another  whose  name  has  not  escaped  the 
oblivion  of  centuries,  undertook  to  capture  Fitzos- 
bert.  They  accordingly  went  about  constantly 
throughout  London,  followed  by  an  armed  band  of 
men,  sworn  to  obedience,  and  hunted  their  victim 
through  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  city.  They 
at  last  espied  him  in  the  street,  with  only  nine  men 
in  his  company,  and  set  upon  him  with  their  large 
force.  Fitzosbert  struggled  desperately,  and  draw- 
ing his  long  knife,  plunged  it  in  the  heart  of  Geoffrey, 
who  was  foremost  in  the  attack,  and  then  with  his 
brave  followers  fought  his  way  to  the  sanctuary  of  a 
neighboring  church.  Driven  from  the  altar,  these 
desperate  fellows  took  refuge  in  the  tower,  where 
they  made  a  successful  resistance  against  a  crowd  of 
blood-thirsty  persecutors.  Unable  to  oust  them  from 
their  position,  it  was  suggested  by  one  of  the  crowd 
that  fire  should  be  tried,  and  accordingly  the  tower 
was  soon  in  a  blaze,  and  Fitzosbert  and  his  comrades 
thus  driven  out.  As  they  issued  from  the  burning 
building  they  were  seized  and  bound.  A  son  of  that 
Geoffrey  who  had  fallen  in  the  first  attempt  to  seize 
the  popular  hero  took  the  opportunity,  when  his 
enemy  was  helpless,  of  striking  a  vindictive  blow. 


Fitzosbert  Hung.  263 

and  plunged  his  sword  deep  into  the  bowels  of  the 
unfortunate  captive.  Fitzosbert,  with  his  entrails 
protruding  and  his  blood  flowing  copiously,  was  then 
dragged  at  the  tail  of  a  horse  to  the  London  Tower, 
and  being  there  confronted  by  the  Regent  of  the 
kingdom,  was  charged  with  treason  and  condemned 
to  be  hung.  He  then,  with  his  companions,  was 
taken  to  the  gallows  and  hung,  as  a  terror  to  all 
lovers  of  the  people  and  friends  of  liberty.  Thus 
died  Fitzosbert,  one  of  the  earliest  martyrs  to  the 
cause  of  freedom. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

The  state  of  England  and  Normandy  gave  full 
occupation  to  the  busy  activities  of  Richard's  energy. 
Had  not  the  mind  of  the  king  been  fully  engaged  in 
reconciling  his  English  people  to  the  oppressive  bur- 
dens which  the  expense  of  endless  war  imposed  upon 
them,  and  his  arm  in  striking  blow  upon  blow  in 
defence  of  his  Norman  subjects  and  dominions,  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  he  would  have  again  sought 
in  the  Holy  Land,  amid  the  former  scenes  of  his 
glory,  a  wider  field  for  his  ambition  and  a  greater 
triumph  for  his  fame.  Notwithstanding  the  truce 
which  had  been  agreed  upon  for  three  years,  the 
Crusade  had  again  begun  in  little  more  than  twelve 
months  after  the  departure  of  the  king  of  England 
from  Acre. 

The  immediate  cause  of  this  renewal  of  hostilities 
between  the  Christian  and  the  Turk  was  the  death  of 
the  great  Saladin.  This  remarkable  prince  died  at 
Damascus,  leaving  behind  him  a  fame  that  is  not 
surpassed  by  that  of  any  hero,  heathen  or  Christian. 
As  a  warrior,  if  judged  according  to  the  science  of 
our  day,  he  was  unequalled  by  any  of  his  cotempo- 
raries.  In  the  conduct  of  a  long  war,  where  the 
14 


Character  of  Saladin.  265 

capacious  head  has  to  devise  and  guide,  as  well  as 
the  strong  arm  to  strike,  he  showed  himself  a  con- 
summate general.  In  the  impetuous  onset,  in  the 
hand-to-hand  struggle,  which  was  the  usual  kind  of 
warfare  of  the  day,  he  was  surpassed  by  the  great 
Richard,  whose  impetuous  courage,  sustained  by 
unequalled  physical  strength  and  vigor,  made  him 
supreme.  In  a  later  age,  with  a  different  system  of 
tactics,  where  the  fate  of  the  battle  does  not  depend 
upon  the  ferocity  or  the  muscle  of  a  leader,  Saladin 
would  undoubtedly  deserve  the  highest  rank.  This 
great  Turk  was  no  less  in  advance  of  his  age,  in  the 
humanity  than  in  the  science  of  war.  He  showed  a 
moderation,  a  generous  disinterestedness  in  his  con- 
duct toward  an  enemy,  which  was  as  much  in  accord- 
ance with  the  holy  spirit  of  Christianity  as  it  con- 
trasted with  the  ferocity  of  the  Christian  warrior. 

As  a  king,  while  in  the  enjoyment  of  peace,  he 
proved  himself  a  great  ruler  and  a  benefactor  of  his 
people.  He  established  wise  laws  and  administered 
them  justly.  He  improved  the-resources  of  his  coun- 
try by  the  construction  of  works  of  public  utility, 
and  added  to  the  happiness  of  his  countrymen  by 
increasing  their  sources  of  pleasure.  He  built  the 
fortresses  of  Cairo,  and  adorned  the  city  with  palaces. 
He  established  a  hospital  and  laid  out  magnificent 
gardens.  He  founded  an  academy  and  established  a 
granary  abounding  with  plenty.  Personally  he  was 
brave  and  generous ;  he  never  shunned  danger  to 


266  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

save  himself,  and  eagerly  sought  occasion  to  benefit 
others.  He  courageously  resisted  the  whole  order 
of  Assassins,  whose  secret  blow  frightened  all  but 
Saladin  into  the  silence  and  unresisting  acquiescence 
of  fear.  He  dared  their  deadly  enmity,  and  seemed 
to  bear  a  life  protected  by  a  superior  power  against 
those  demons  of  darkness.  He  was  attacked  three 
times  during  his  career,  and  although  wounded  sur- 
vived. On  one  occasion,  during  the  siege  of  Aleppo, 
an  Assassin,  who  was  disguised  as  one  of  his  attend- 
ants, wounded  him  in  the  head,  but  Saladin,  not  much 
harmed,  drew  his  sword  and  slew  him  on  the  irfstant. 
Another  sprung  to  finish  the  dead  man's  office,  but 
the  guards  were  before  him  and  struck  him  down, 
and  immediately  a  third  rushed  forward,  but  met 
with  the  same  fate  as  his  brethren. 

When  Saladin  became  Sultan  the  treasury  of  Cairo 
came  into  his  possession.  This  treasury  was  the 
accumulation  of  two  centuries,  and  its  contents  had 
been  gathered  from  Africa,  Egypt,  Palestine,  and 
Arabia.  It  contained  seven  hundred  pearls  of 
immense  size,  an  emerald  of  a  span  long  and  an  inch 
in  thickness,  enormous  heaps  of  gold  coin,  and  bars 
of  gold  and  silver  bullion,  and  stores  of  translucent 
amber,  and  the  aromatic  gums  of  oriental  lands.  In 
addition  to  this  wealth  there  was  a  library,  said  to 
contain  2,600,000  books,  enriched  by  all  the  learning 
of  the  wise  men  of  the  East.  These  facts  are  stated 
by  Von  Hammer  on  the  authority  of  an  Arabic  his- 


The  Last   Words  of  Saladin.  267 

torian.  Saladin  generously  distributed  some  of  this 
treasure  among  his  people,  and  wisely  appropriated 
the  rest  for  the  expenses  of  his  administration,  and 
the  construction  of  canals,  aqueducts,  and  other  works 
of  public  utility. 

The  last  words  of  Saladin  were  in  character  with 
this  great  man's  life.  They  were  in  contempt  of 
mere  worldly  renown  and  in  honor  of  heavenly 
charity.  As  he  was  about  dying  he  ordered  that 
liberal  supplies  of  money  should  be  distributed 
among  the  poor,  without  distinction  of  Jew,  Christ- 
ian or  Mahometan ;  and  with  his  last  breath  he  en- 
joined upon  his  followers  to  bear  his  winding-sheet 
as  a  standard  throughout  Cairo,  while  the  heralds, 
going  before,  should  shout  aloud,  "  This  is  all  that 
remains  to  the  mighty  Saladin,  the  conqueror  of  the 
East:' 

Saladin  committed  a  great  error  as  a  statesman  in 
the  distribution  of  his  dominions  equally  among  his 
twelve  children.  His  sense  of  justice  as  a  father  got 
the  better  of  his  policy  as  a  king.  This  dismember- 
ment was  fatal  to  the  Saracen  power,  and  accordingly 
was  resisted  by  the  wisest  of  the  Turkish  chiefs. 
They  declared  for  Saphadin,  the  brother  of  the  late 
Sultan,  who  had  shown  himself  by  his  valor  and  dis- 
cretion worthy  to  succeed  him.  The  adherents  of  the 
twelve  princes  resisted  this  usurpation,  and  a  civil 
war,  with  the  usual  concomitants  of  disorder  and 
weakness,    ensued.     The    Christian    potentates    of 


268  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

Europe  thought  this  a  favorable  opportunity,  in  spite 
of  the  truce,  to  strike  a  How  for  the  holy  cause,  and 
accordingly  the  Germans  and  Italians,  under  the 
sanction  of  the  Pope  and  all  Christendom,  invaded 
Palestine. 

Philip  of  Champagne,  then  the  nominal  emperor  of 
Jerusalem,  the  nephew  of  Richard  and  brave  comrade 
of  his  uncle  in  the  Crusade,  prepared  to  lead  his  own 
forces,  strengthened  by  the  allies,  into  this  new  strug- 
gle for  the  prize  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre  ;  but  as  he 
was  proudly  reviewing  his  troops  on  their  march  out 
of  the  citadel  of  Acre,  the  balcony  on  which  he 
stood  gave  way,  and  he  was  killed  on  the  spot. 
This  was  a  severe  blow  to  Richard,  who  loved  him 
with  great  affection,  and  looked  to  him  as  the  chief 
hope  of  the  Christian  cause  in  the  Holy  Land. 

France  and  England  bore  no  part  in  this  fresh 
Crusade.  They  were  too  busy  with  the  heathen 
practice  of  fighting  with  each  other,  to  strike  a  blow 
for  Christianity.  After  a  somewhat  protracted  truce 
for  such  breakers  of  the  peace  as  Richard  and  Philip, 
they  were  again  in  hostilities  fiercer  than  ever. 
They  invaded  each  other's  dominions  and  laid  waste 
the  territory  with  the  fire  and  the  sword.  The  king 
of  England  was,  as  usual,  victorious  in  almost  every 
engagement  with  his  enemy.  The  last  victory  which 
we  have  to  record  of  the  many,  which  form  an  aggre- 
gate of  successful  warfare  that  the  bloody  annals  of 
few  great  leaders  can  equal,  took  place  on  a  plain 


The  Last  Battle.  269 

near  Gisors.  The  field  was  clear,  the  forces  were 
well  matched  in  strength  and  numbers.  Richard  led 
his  English  and  Normans,  and  Philip  his  French. 
They  met  with  a  seeming  resolve  to  settle  by  this 
well-balanced  engagement  the  long-contested  claims 
of  superiority.  Both  kings  were  early  in  the  encoun- 
ter, urging  on  their  followers  by  spirited  appeals  and 
brave  example.  Richard's  towering  height  was  seen 
as  ever  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  and  the  might  of 
his  blow  felt  and  recorded  by  the  heaps  of  the  dead 
wherever  it  fell.  Philip,  too,  showed  no  lack  of 
spirit  and  personal  daring.  The  result  seemed  uncer- 
tain for  several  hours,  now  victory  appeared  secure  to 
the  one,  and  again  to  the  other,  when  the  lion-hearted 
king,  gathering  all  his  strength  and  followed  by  some 
of  his  bravest  knights,  made  one  of  those  impetuous 
onsets,  which  no  enemy  had  yet  resisted,  and  crush- 
ing down  the  foremost  ranks,  put  the  French  to  flight. 
As  the  enemy  fled,  thronging  together  in  thick  con- 
fusion, over  the  river  Epte,  near  Gisors,  the  bridge 
gave  way  and  large  numbers  were  precipitated  into 
its  depths.  King  Philip  was  among  them,  and  wap 
only  saved  by  the  devotion  of  some  of  his  men. 
His  life  and  liberty  were  both  in  imminent  hazard. 
Many  were  drowned,  and  among  them  no  less  than 
thirty  of  the  flower  of  the  nobility  and  knighthood  of 
France,  while  many  hundreds  were  taken  prisoners. 
Richard  in  his  announcement  of  the  victory  stated} 
"This  day  I  have  made  the  king  of  France  drink 


270  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

deep  of  the  waters  of  the  Epte."  Among  his  glo- 
ries of  the  day  it  is  recorded  that  the  English  king 
had  dismounted  three  knights  in  one  single  charge 
and  secured  them  as  captives. 

The  monarchs  seemed  sated  with  blood,  and  a  truce 
was  agreed  upon  for  five  years,  with  a  better  pros- 
pect of  a  continuance  than  any  that  had  yet  been 
struck  between  the  belligerents. 

Richard  had  some  affairs  of  his  own  now  to  settle. 
An  insurrection  of  unruly  barons  summoned  him  to 
Aquitaine,  where  he  immediately  proceeded,  and  soon 
quelled,  with  his  usual  vigor,  the  turbulence  of  his 
vassals.  The  king  now  seemed  to  be  at  rest,  with  a 
fair  prospect  of  a  happy  and  quiet  termination  to  his 
agitated  life.  But  little  more  than  forty  years  of 
age,  with  a  constitution  of  iron,  that  the  campaign  in 
the  Holy  Land,  with  its  pestilential  diseases  and  its 
fierce  warfare,  had,  in  spite  of  its  rude  shocks,  left 
firm,  with  an  energy  of  will  and  might  of  arm,  which 
resistance  seemed  only  to  weld  to  greater  tenacity 
and  more  enduring  power,  with  a  youth  early  disci- 
plined to  arms,  and  a  manhood  exercised  in  constant 
conflict,  Richard  stood  forth  proud  in  the  grandeur 
of  human  beauty  and  strength,  a  tower  of  life,  which 
seemed  to  bid  defiance  to  the  insidious  approaches  of 
disease,  the  violence  of  hostile  attack,  or  even  to  the 
might  of  all-conquering  death  itself. 

The  king,  however,  was  not  free  from  the  super- 
stition of  his  day,  and  his  mind  was  now  darkened 


The  Shadoto  of  Death.  271 

by  a  shadow  which  seemed  to  be  cast  by  a  coming 
event.  He  would  often  repeat,  in  tones  of  melan 
choly  foreboding,  as  if  tolling  his  own  doom,  a  weird- 
like ballad,  in  which  some  prophet  of  woe  had  fore- 
told that  the  arrow  was  being  wrought  in  Limousin 
which  was  to  speed  to  the  heart  of  the  mighty  king 
the  fatal  message  of  death. 

An  occasion  soon  offered  to  arouse  Richard  from 
his  despondency.  One  of  his  barons,  Vidomar,  vis- 
count of  Limoges,  had  found  on  his  land  a  large 
treasure  of  gold  and  rich  jewels,  which  some  fright- 
ened possessor  in  those  disturbed  times  of  violence 
and  plunder  had  buried.  Vidomar  refused  to  give 
up  only  a  small  portion  of  this  lucky  prize,  while 
the  king  claimed  the  whole  on  the  score  of  his  being 
the  liege  lord  and  the  viscount  his  vassal.  Vidomar 
had  deposited  the  treasure  within  the  strong  walls  of 
his  Castle  of  Chaluz,  and  seemed  resolved  to  defend 
the  gold  and  the  jewels  at  the  hazard  of  his  life.  On 
the  approach  of  Richard,  however,  the  count  and  his 
garrison  took  fright  and  offered  to  surrender  the  cas- 
tle and  its  contents,  provided  their  lives  were  spared. 
The  king  would  not  listen  to  any  terms,  but  sent 
word  that  he  should  give  no  quarter  and  would  have 
castle,  treasure,  and  the  life  of  every  man  who 
defended  them,  and  hang  each  villain  who  survived 
the  assault  upon  the  battlements  of  the  fortress.  As 
the  king,  accompanied  by  Marchadee,  the  captain  of 
the  mercenary  troops  of  Brabant,  who  were  now  in 


272  The  Lion-Hearted  King. 

the  pay  of  Richard,  was  riding  about  the  walls  of 
Chaluz,  minutely  inspecting  their  structure  and  seek- 
ing for  a  proper  point  to  make  the  assault  and  open  a 
breach,  a  youth  of  the  name  of  Bertrand  de  Gurdun 
recognized  Richard,  and  drawing  his  bow,  and  fixing 
his  aim  full  upon  the  king,  discharged  an  arrow, 
which  pierced  deep  into  his  left  shoulder.  Richard 
plucked  at  the  weapon,  but  its  barbed  point  was  so 
deeply  imbedded,  that  it  resisted  this  painful  en- 
deavor. Overcome  with  the  irritating  effects  of  his 
useless  attempts,  and  nearly  fainting  with  pain,  the 
king  rode  back  to  his  camp. 

In  the  meantime  the  Brabanters  carried  the  fortress 
by  storm  and  massacred  every  man,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Bertrand,  who  was  taken  captive,  to  be 
dealt  with  by  the  royal  justice.  On  the  arrival  of 
Richard  within  his  tent,  the  surgeons  hastened  to  the 
royal  sufferer  and  made  repeated  attempts  to  extract 
the  arrow.  In  the  course  of  their  rude  efforts  the 
weapon  broke,  leaving  its  barbed  head  to  rankle  in 
the  flesh.  So  unskilful  was  the  treatment  of  the  bar- 
barous surgery  of  the  day,  that  the  wound  soon  began 
to  exhibit  symptoms  of  gangrene.  The  mighty 
Richard  now  gave  up  all  hope,  and  believing  his  life 
was  fast  drawing  to  a  close,  he  sent  for  the  prisoner 
Bertrand  de  Gurdun.  As  the  youth  came  into  his 
presence,  nothing  daunted  by  the  fierce  look  of  Rich- 
ard, whose  fiery  eye  yet  glared  through  the  approach- 
ing mist  of  death,  the   king  exclaimed,  "  Wretch, 


Death.  273 

what  have  I  ever  done  to  thee  that  thou  shouldst 
seek  my  life?"  The  prisoner  boldly  answered, 
"My  father  and  my  two  brothers  thou  hast  slain 
with  thine  own  hand,  and  wouldst  have  hung  myself. 
Now  I  am  happy  that  thou  diest,  for  I  shall  have  rid 
the  world  of  an  oppressor.  Do  thy  worst,  for  I  care 
not  for  the  torture  nor  the  agonies  of  death."  The 
generous  monarch  pardoned  the  spirited  youth.  "  I 
forgive  thee,  boy,"  cried  Richard,  and  then  turning 
to  the  guards  said  :  "  Unloose  him  and  count  him  out 
a  hundred  shillings."  The  fierce  captain  of  the  mer- 
cenaries no  sooner  had  the  youthful  prisoner  in  his 
power,  than  with  savage  cruelty  he  first  flayed  and 
then  hung  him. 

The  stern  warrior's  last  act  was  one  of  forgiveness 
and  mercy,  which  softened  the  close  of  his  fierce 
career  as  the  evening  vapor  tempers  the  hot  rays  of 
the  setting  summer's  sun.  Richard  died,  in  great 
suffering,  on  the  6th  day  of  April,  in  the  year  1199, 
at  the  early  age  of  forty-two.  His  body  was  laid  by 
the  side  of  that  of  his  father,  the  great  Henry,  in  the 
Abbey  of  Fontevraud,  where  the  mighty  Richard 
reposed  at  last in  death. 


Published  by  Evans  Sf  Dickerson. 


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ONE  YOLUJLE,  16M0,   CLOTH,  EXTRA. 

This  book  is  designed  to  instruct  as  well  as  to  delight  the  young  reader.  It 
seeks  to  teach,  the  most  beautiful  and  important  truths  and  principles  of  natural 
science  in  the  fascinating  guise  of  story.  The  incidents  which  occur  in  the 
experience  of  a  happy  family  group,  during  the  Christmas  holidays  of  the  young 
people,  are  all  made  to  minister  to  their  knowledge  of  philosophy.  The  acci- 
dental fall  of  a  dish  from  the  fingers  of  a  careless  servant  forms  the  text  of  a  dis- 
cussion on  gravitation.  The  frost-work  upon  the  window-panes,  a  soap-bubble 
rolling  upon  the  carpet,  a  school-boy's  sport  with  "a  sucker" — these  and  a  hun- 
dred other  apparent  trifles  are  pegs  upon  which  are  hung  the  most  valuable  les- 
sons of  practical  wisdom.  Almost  all  the  branches  of  physical  science  are  illustrated 
in  the  development  of  the  story  ;  and  the  intelligent  child  may  gather  more  dis- 
tinct and  accurate  ideas  about  them,  almost  unconsciously,  while  following  the 
sports  and  pastimes  of  Harry  and  his  companions,  than  he  could  possiby  derive 
from  text-books  on  science  in  a  quarter's  hard  study.  The  author's  familiarity 
with  the  sciences  has  enabled  him  to  interweave  their  leading  facts  into  tha 
thread  of  the  story,  with  due  regard  to  philosophical  accuracy,  while  it  is 
never  burdened  with  the  technicalities  of  science,  or  made  dull  by  dry  and 
tedious  explanations.  The  days  of  "  Harry's  Vacation"  flew  not  more  rapidly  by 
to  the  delighted  inmates  of  Beechwood,  than  will  the  hours  to  those  young  peo- 
ple whose  good  fortune  it  may  be  to  read  the  charming  story  of  their  experiences 
and  pastimes.  Probably  no  book  for  the  young  has  ever  been  published  in 
which  amusement  and  instruction  are  so  happily  and  successfully  blended,  and 
which  deserves  to  obtain  a  larger  degree  of  popularity  than  this  beautiful  vol- 
ume. Nor  will  the  young  alone  find  interest  in  its  pages,  but  "  children  of  a 
larger  growth"  may  derive  both  knowledge  and  gratification  in  its  pleasant 
"  Philosophy  at  Home." 


ROM  A N  TIC    BIOGRAPHIES 


HEEOES     OF    HISTOEY. 


EEV.  F.   L.   HAWXES,   B.D.,   LL.D. 

IN  UNIFORM   16MO    VOLUMES,   KEATLY  PRINTED   AND  ILLUSTRATED   WITH 
SPIRITED  ENGRATTNGS. 

The  following  Biographies  are  nearly  ready  : 

I.   RICHARD    THE     LION-HEARTED 
II.  SIR    WALTER     RALEIGH. 

III.  OLIVER    CROMV.'ELL. 

IV.  SIR    WILLIAM    WALLACE    AND     ROBERT    BRUCE. 
V.   EDWARD    THE     BLACK     PRINCE. 

The  Publishers  in  announcing  this  series  of  Biographies  of  men  whose 
heroic  deeds  have  been  the  fruitful  theme  of  Song  and  Romance,  from  the 
days  in  which  they  lived  unto  the  present  time,  and  whose  names  will  ever 
stand  prominent  on  the  pages  of  history,  feel  assured  that  the  name  of  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Hawkes,  who  will  either  write  or  edit  the  whole  of  the  series,  is  a 
sufficient  pledge  that  each  Biography,  although  written  in  a  style  to  attract 
and  interest  the  young,  will,  with  a  strict  regard  to  historical  truth,  be  the 
means  of  impressing  on  the  mind  of  the  reader  the  dry  details  of  history,  and 
thus  prove  both  instructive  and  fascinating. 

EVANS  &  DICKERSON,  Publishers. 

GDI  Broadway,  New-York. 


